It's a Long, Long Road
by Jaeger Gipsy Danger
Summary: A Fallout 3 & 4 crossover story. The Lone Wanderer & Sole Survivor meet in Boston. Through danger, adventure, guarded laughter, & occasional bright spots of happiness, they work out their differences. If they don't kill each other first they could partner up & make their world a better place. Special guests, Phade the Courier & a mysterious man named Spirit.
1. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 1

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 1 Prologue, There's No Return

TIME AND PLACE: The Capital Wasteland, Spring, 2287. This story begins ten years after the events of the Lone Wanderer leaving Vault 101 and about the same time the Sole Survivor left Vault 111 to start her adventure.

* * *

"The road is long

With many a winding turn

That leads us to who knows where

Who knows when

But I'm strong

Strong enough to carry him

He ain't heavy, he's my brother."

* * *

I stood on the bank of the Potomac watching the sun struggle through the morning haze. The cherry trees were in bloom, their pink laden branches bowing to the morning breeze. The air smelled clean, and the Potomac sparkled in the growing light. I sucked in a breath to pull this beautiful morning deep into my lungs. Sitting at my feet, Dogmeat whined for attention. When I reached down to scratch his head, I wondered if reviving those trees might be the best thing I'd done here. The rest of it had been mostly killing and taking it upon myself to decide who lived and who died.

They still called me the Lone Wanderer, and this morning, as I turn away from the DC Wasteland, I could almost believe my actions of the last decade were justified. That the peace of this quiet morning would last and the choices I made were not those of a desperate killer. Ten years I'd been here working toward rebuilding the city. Project Purity had been a success, and I had an idea about heading up the coast to see if I could work out a deal to create a pipeline…or something, a way to share the water with others.

With another scratch behind his ears, I tossed him a mouthful of mirelurk, which he happily gobbled. I shouldered my pack and rifle and turned away from Vault 101, the city and the handful of people I had once called friends. They were mostly all dead now. Been dead since a band of Raiders hit Megaton while I wasn't there. Coming up from the city, I saw smoke on the horizon and began to run. I found the robot in pieces as if they'd beaten him with a baseball bat and the gates smashed open. Lucas lay just inside, his vacant eyes staring into the sun with his spent rifle still clutched in his hands. I had found Gob's head before I found his body with Moriarty sprawled next to him with a piece of rebar stuck in his chest. Bodies everywhere and I could put names to them all.

I sprinted up the steps toward Craterside Supply, where I found Moira sprawled on the floor of her shop. She lay bleeding out in the rubble of what had once been her pride and joy. In my rush to get to her, I tripped over the body of her guard. My feet slid on the blood coating the floor. They'd shot him once straight through his heart. They must have figured out he was trouble. The must have kicked open the door and shot him. By the way, his body lay I could tell he must have done his best to protect Moira. My heart pounded into my throat because I knew everyone here would have done their best to defend their town. But Raiders are evil creatures and kill without mercy.

I fell to my knees oblivious of the blood. They'd cut Moira's clothes away—bile rose in my throat and choked me so that I had to spit or vomit when I realized what mixed with the blood pooling under her hips. My pretty innocent Moira. Guilt tore through me until I retched helplessly and my numbed brain chanting, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I failed them. Failed them all. They must have all taken a turn at her. Then gutted her so she could bleed out real slow.

After I had applied what first aid I could, shouting all the while for the doc who would never arrive, I covered her with a blanket jacket. She stirred and when she opened those green eyes of hers, my heart filled with regret. With her open personality and pretty features she never had a chance. My lovely Moira had precisely the kind of nature that could get you killed out here in the Wasteland. I should have protected her. I should have let her know how I felt about her and why I always visited her first when I returned to Megaton. Once, after sharing a bottle of good wine, I'd 'found,' I almost asked her to move in with me. Hell, we were just kids back then, and I didn't have the courage. With me hardly out of the Vault and not yet twenty and her just starting out with her business the timing just didn't seem right. She was lost to me now and it was my fault.

As the light faded from her eyes, I selfishly hoped she might recognize me.

"Moira? It's Jacob."

"Hey, Jacob. Good to see you."

Instead of I love you, I blundered over how sorry I was for not being here. She just shook her head and smacked my chest with a bloody fist.

"You just take everything you can carry and get the hell out of here. Do that for me, Jacob. Don't let me worry they got you too."

"I will," I promised, and although I wanted to lift her into my arms and make it all okay. I knew she'd die if I moved her. I just stayed close, holding her hand, and watching her go in and out of consciousness.

"Ain't you got something to tell me?"

Tears stung my eyes, and I shifted my gaze to our joined hands. I hadn't cried since that first night out in the open after escaping the Vault and not even when I watched my Dad die. Come, the fuck on, Jake. You coward. With my hand gripped in hers, I managed to choke out the words from a heart long ago shriveled and broken.

"You're the prettiest girl...Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I should have told you years ago...that I love you, Moira."

She smiled, "Love you…too. Don' worry…never the time, anyway. Be safe. Hey, never actually been kissed..."

As long as I live, I'll never forget the feel of her lips or the taste of her as she used the last of her strength to kiss me back. Then I watched the light fade from those lovely green eyes and bowed my head again. I stayed that way while the tears I'd held back for a decade had their way with me.

That had all happened a year ago. I buried the bodies of my friends and hunted down the Raiders who sacked Megaton. Finally, when I couldn't take another lonely night, listening for footsteps on the empty paths of Megaton, I took her advice and packed up all I could carry.

The Brotherhood of Steel could kiss my ass or more likely shoot me. I didn't care which. Lucky for me, Crazy Wolfgang was passing through on his usual route through the Wasteland. I paid him to take my power armor and whatever I couldn't carry to Rivet City and told him I'd meet him there quick as I could. The Caravanner and I had become good friends, and I knew I could trust him—with enough caps for motivation—with my gear.

I stayed in Rivet City for a few months. Thought about opening a shop. Knew I'd go stir crazy in a month if I tried it. Got bored and started drinking like it was a career move. You know how it is in a small community. Everyone is in everyone's business, and after few of the women let me know, they'd be happy to warm my bed. I said no thank you and packed my gear. Crazy Wolfgang thought heading north sounded like a good idea too, so he offered to tote my stuff again. We made plans to meet at a small town just outside of Boston.

Now, all I have to do is start walking. But here I stand watching the sun come up and letting those memories slow me down. Regrets will get you nothing but drowned in a bottle of cheap whiskey. I'd learned that lesson. Dogmeat whined again. I know he's restless too and that's as good an excuse as any to start my feet moving north. I feel there's something more for me up north and maybe there is. I can't stay here. I turned my back on DC and set my feet toward Boston.

* * *

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

1969, The Hollies

"The road is long  
With many a winding turn  
That leads us to who knows where  
Who knows when  
But I'm strong  
Strong enough to carry him  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go  
His welfare is of my concern  
No burden is he to bear  
We'll get there  
For I know  
He would not encumber me  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

If I'm laden at all  
I'm laden with sadness  
That everyone's heart  
Isn't filled with the gladness  
Of love for one another

It's a long, long road  
From which there is no return  
While we're on the way to there  
Why not share  
And the load  
Doesn't weigh me down at all  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

He's my brother  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother..."


	2. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 2

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 2

Thank you all the kind words. It means so much to know you're enjoying the story.

* * *

Once I reached the outskirts of D.C., I finally raised my head enough to appreciate the fine weather. The exercise put a spring in my step and raised my spirits. That got me feeling better about life in general. I left those gloomy thoughts behind me and took out across the landscape. My quickened pace set a good time and with just two stops, I made it to the outskirts of Annapolis by sundown. Both times the women running the small settlement store offered to give me a little something extra to brighten my day. And, of course, anything I decided to purchase would be free of charge. Just for the price of a little company.

What is it with women, anyway? I got the caps; I don't need to see your tits. Have a little class about yourself, am I right?

The first shopkeeper, a toothless, used up stick with dirty hair looked me up and down with a grin that made my stomach roll. I think I saw something moving in her hair, and she smelled like… Well, you know how it smells when you walk through a building where Mutants live? 'Nuf said?

Now, the second one. She was something to make a man pause for another look. The second one had firm curves under her coveralls. I could tell when she bent over to reach for some cans of pork and beans she wasn't wearing much else. Her natural good looks, red hair and green eyes that smile of hers got me feeling generous. I didn't even have to tell her I was the Lone Wanderer. Truthfully, I am not a vain man and my looks are not something I focus on. Survival is usually first on my list. But I have heard more than one woman say my black hair and blue eyes caught their fancy.

After telling Dogmeat to stay put, I followed her into the backroom. We spent two hours together and let's just say I brightened her day and managed not to call her Moira when I came deep inside her with an orgasm so powerful it made my ears ring. With a final kiss, I promised to stop by some day and see her again. Hey, I'm not some love 'em and leave 'em bastard. And I left enough caps to pay for my supplies.

When she kissed me goodbye she let me know the Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium and the Naval Academy up the road were safe zones. For no other reason than it was simply closer to the road, I headed to the stadium. I took the signs of blossoming flowers and crops growing in the field as an indication of civilization, and that was my first mistake. A mistake I discovered rather painfully a minute later when I heard the crack of a Hunting Rifle. A second later the bullet knocked Lucas Sims' hat from my head. I threw myself down and rolled between some rusty cars. Ten years in the Wasteland taught me if someone had me in their scope, these cars were now easy targets, and I'd better get moving.

When I tried to stand, to my surprise I crumpled back down to my knees. Shit. I don't even want to look. My pant leg is torn, and there's a foot-long gash on my lower leg from the bent fender of one of these rusty cars. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Dogmeat whined and began trotting in a circle me guarding our perimeter. Sometimes he drives me crazy. Then there're times like these, and there's been more than one where he will probably save my life. Why did it have to be a rusty piece of metal and more importantly, who just shot at me? Anyone who survived for long out here knew what LockJaw could do to you, and there was not much any kind of cure.

I used up the last of the purified water from my canteen to wash it out. Squeezed out as much blood and dirt as possible. Bit down on the leather sleeve of my jacket and poured the remainder of a good bottle of whiskey over the wound. I managed to keep the scream to a groan, but just barely. Dogmeat ran up to me snuffling my face and worrying over me.

"Get back to work," I hissed at him through the burning pain of the alcohol. "And don't get yourself shot!" He just licked my hand and ran off. By that time, the pain from the whiskey subsided so my hands were steady enough to aim down the scope of my sniper rifle.

Well, fuckity-fuck, fuck, so much for a safe zone. She'd promised me this was a safe zone. I began to experience some not-so-nice-feelings about my Moira stand-in. Had she set me up? Naked in the afterglow of some unforgettable sex and she's still scheming. You can't trust 'em. Ever.

Down the center of my scope, I saw two Super Mutants guarding the main gates. A couple of Brutes by the look of 'em. I couldn't take them both down with one shot and with no way to run the surviving Brute would happily serve me up to his Mutant buddies for dinner. Sorry boys, not today.

With night coming on and the temperature dropping, I knew I had to get out of here and under some cover. I tried to stand, but it was just no good. Maybe if I could get off the ground and into one of the cars I might survive the night. That is if the Mutants don't see me, the night doesn't get too cold, or infection doesn't set in. With a great deal more optimism than I had a right to, I managed to pull myself into a car with some of the seat still intact and wrapped my arms around Dogmeat to keep warm.

That's all I remember until I felt someone poking my leg with something sharp woke me up.

The morning sun blinded me, but I could see enough to know the someone turned out to be a kid. A boy of about ten, with a thatch of bright yellow hair cut short on the sides and blue eyes that studied my every move. The thing poking me in the leg was a mean looking knife with serrated edges and just enough blood on the blade to convince me he knew how to use it. I could barely get my eyes open to focus on the small gang of boys keeping a wary eye on my growling dog. You can always trust a dog. Remember I said that.

"You sick, mister?"

"Where you from?" I responded. I ask the questions. "There's Mutants up there at those gates."

"They can't see us from there. 'Sides they have to stay by the gate to make sure no one goes in or out."

 _In or out?_ "How do you know that?" I asked struggling to sit up. I shivered hard, broke out in goose pimples and felt my head start to pound.

"You're sick. You should come with us. We live at the SNav'cadmy"

"The what?"

One of the young boys responded. "That's what the sign says. Anyway, Mister you better come with us, 'cause a herd of mole rats come through here about this time looking for food and they ain't nearly too friendly."

No shit.

The leader plucked up his courage and braved my dog's bared teeth. "We ain't no gang, Mister and we ain't lookin' for trouble."

Another boy stepped up, "We're midshipmen! And that means we got honor, courage, commitment."

Well, I'll be damned if that's not the cutest thing I ever heard. "Okay, men. Lead the way."

They talked non-stop while we walked the few miles to The Academy. And I finally got an answer to in or out. Seems the Mutants allow a group of humans to live inside the stadium protected and well feed. The price? Every month or so, one or two of them get the honor of being the main course. Ah, the wasteland. Never a dull moment.

I figured it was about two miles across the open country. But the boys seemed to know the best way, and we experienced no trouble. With my hand on one boy's shoulder and Dogmeat on the other side, I stumbled through the massive front doors. The infection and fever in full bloom. It was warm in here, and I smelled food cooking. Real food. What a treat.

A stranger's hands guided me to the Infirmary. I think it was the Infirmary. Could be a torture chamber for all I knew because the fever kept me from thinking clearly.

"You just lay back, Mister and we'll have you ship-shape in no time."

I had no idea what ship shape meant. I'd settle for waking up with all my body parts.

"Those boys…" I murmured, trying to stay awake. "Good boys."

I felt a needle puncture my skin. "That they are, sir. Now you just let this work and get some sleep. Your dog is resting right here under the exam table."

Damn it felt good to be warm. Good thing I'm the trusting type, right?


	3. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 3

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 3

* * *

With my mind a thick stew of thoughts and memories all grumbling for attention I tried to wake up. The muscles in my arms and legs felt heavy and useless. The sickly sweet sour taste of bile bubbled into my throat. Gah, that's a nasty taste. I fought down the nausea by distracting myself listening to the voices around me. But I couldn't really tell if they were real or I was dreaming. The bile in my throat burned like hell, so that was real. Keeping my body very still I forced away the growing fear and focused on the voices. And they were real voices. I was sure of it now.

Hadn't there been something oddly intense (intense even for the Wasteland) about this whole place? From the boys assuring me they weren't out to hurt anyone, to the honor, courage, commitment thing. Damn that fever and my infected leg. Twice damn me for being so careless to become this badly injured. My head gradually cleared while I lay there and finally realized the chill of a fever and pain left me during the night. Resisting the urge to open my eyes I strained again to understand their words.

One of the men, who sounded like the doctor who treated me last night spoke quietly. Two other voices, a female and another male joined in the conversation. But I couldn't make out their words. It wasn't until I heard the word _dunking, keel hauling, lashes_ and _tying neck and heels_ that I forced myself awake and tried to sit up.

The steel bite of handcuffs circled my wrists greeted my attempt and a quick glance at my feet let me know my legs were bound with rope. The bastards had tied me to the bed. And, when the sheet responded to my struggle by slipping away the sight of my naked self, put another level of fear into me. Naked and bound… Yeah, well. Maybe later, but not right now. For one thing, the lights are too bright and that female was no Moira.

 _Fuck._

Naked, without weapons in this world, equaled death. This just ain't my day. I was beginning to question my wisdom in setting off for a new adventure when they stopped talking and the doctor approached my side.

"Prisoner, Jacob-117, aka the Lone Wanderer."

No longer the friendly doctor from last night, the man was dressed in a very worn dark blue uniform. I assumed it was a Navy uniform, and by the look on his face the rank was irrelevant. This was obviously a man of authority. Steel gray eyes peered at me from under hairy eyebrows.

"We showed you the courtesy due a shipmate last night. We took care of you and shared our small supply of medication to heal your wounds."

"Yeah, thanks for that. I'm…"

"Quiet! Prisoners do not speak. During the night one of our Scouts reported in with dire news of your true identity. We don't take kindly to murderers and thieves here, Prisoner. Our crimp Shanghai Sally was quite thorough in reporting your identity."

Never trust a woman. I really need to start taking my own advice. "Don't tell me, runs a store about ten miles back. Red hair, green eyes, and a nice ass."

"Just the one." The man actually twirled the end of his mustache, with a smirk on his fat red lips. "Tasty bit of flesh that one."

I am so fucked. Those Brutes were starting to look real good about now. Thinking fast I tried to remember what I might have whispered into her ear. Crazy Wolfgang? No. And remember, I hadn't told her I was the Lone Wanderer. So how had she known?

"You are hereby sentenced to twenty lashes. Bound to the main mast each stripe shall document your crimes for the world to see."

Had Wolfgang gotten here before me? He might have stopped at that bitch's shop to barter goods. It was only beginning to sink in what they in store for me when they released me from the bed. A bayoneted shotgun pressed hard enough against my chest to draw blood reminded me to stay still. I really hated seeing my own blood. As I watched the crimson ribbon unfurl I noticed Big Jake down there looking very small and vulnerable.

Suck it up, Jacob. You can't use your weapons or strength so for once use your head. I wouldn't fight until I figured out where they stored my equipment. I kept my head down and rounded my shoulders. It was only the staccato beating of my heart that gave away the growing fear that I was in real trouble.

 _Think, Jacob. Think._

"Sir, in my stuff. There's a medal on a chain. Something my mother gave me a long time ago. It'd mean a lot if you allowed me to wear it...for comfort at this time...Shipmate to shipmate, sir?"

The room went very still and quiet. Even the blade backed out of my flesh.

Stroking his mustache, while I held my breath, the doc finally nodded his head. "Midshipmen, retrieve the medal from the prisoner's effects. And a pair of drawers. Now, on the double, Mister!"

The boy hadn't finished the words, "Aye, sir" before he sprinted up the stairs. I could see the first riser from where I stood. One flight, then the sound of his pounding feet just above my head. The sound of a metal locker thrown open. _Thank you._

The boy quickly produced the medal and a pair of boxer shorts. Well, if I had to die, it might as well be in these. No one alive today had seen a pair of actual underpants and I'd been offered some serious amounts of caps for them. Bright red with odd looking red and white stripped hook things and sprigs of pointed leaves. I slipped them on quickly. Better.

"The prisoner shall…" He stopped talking suddenly and looked up at me. Now what? "This is a Saint Michael medallion," he said. "Your mother chose well, sailor. Never mind though, it won't save you this time," he commented dryly and slipped the chain over my head.

He pushed me forward and we began our procession to the main mast. I'll admit how they got something the size of a main mast inside this building had peaked my interest.

I muttered a prayer to Saint Michael, whoever he was. Hey, I'm not a complete heathen. And a devout thank you to my mother, whoever she was.

Down a flight of stairs and into a large room with highly polished parquet wood floors. A very worn US Navy flag and to the right of it stood an American flag. Between the two stood a wooden pole just thick enough to secure my arms around. When they jerked me tight to the thing, my face bounced off the wood and the stench of old blood and spittle staining the wood hit me like a blow. I gagged on it and fought hard to hold down the nausea.

"The prisoner is sentenced to twenty lashes. The First Officer is permitted to step forward when delivering the blow. The Officer of the Deck shall count them out. Proceed with the sentence.

The crack of a leather whip. The force of a blow against flesh and I felt my skin split open.

"ONE!"

My whole body jerked forward to escape the fire that erupted on my back. I tried not to scream I really tried.

"TWO!"

Pretty Moira Brown endured more pain than this. Far more. I thought of the people of Megaton. They'd taken me in, fed and sheltered me when I was just a scared kid. The old man who kept the water circulating, always ready for a smoke break and some gossip.

"THREE!"

Uh, Saint Michael, if you're out there? My tears mixed with the sweat pouring off my face. I could no longer see the filthy wood in front of me.

"FOUR!"

Megaton. Home. Moriarty, you sneaky bastard! Lucy. Gob. Billy and the doc. I'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorryI'm sorry. I couldn't save you. I'm sorry…

FIVE!"

The crack of gunfire. Shouting behind me. Dammit, I can't see! My body flinched against the mast ready for the fifth blow. I'm pretty sure I'll scream this time. But the blow never fell.

The gurgling sound of someone choking. More gunfire, a machine gun this time and the bark of a shotgun. I wonder which one of those bullets has my name on it?

Small hands untying me and attempting to ease my fall. I landed on the polished wood floor with the force of a dead body. Awww, fuck that hurt. The world spun into darkness. But I had to stay conscious. Squinting through the pain, gasping for air with sweat pouring off me, I noticed more hands and small feet clad in leather boots. My backpack landed with a thump on the floor close to my face. They helped me roll over so I could see.

The three boys from last night squatting in front of me peering into my face. "Sorry, Mister. We tried to be quicker, but they watch us all the time."

My eyes finally cleared enough for me to see dead bodies strewn around the room, fresh blood pooling from gaping wounds. Guns do ugly things to our squishy bodies.

I had to get on my feet. I had to, but I just wanted to sleep. Make it all go away.

Hands prodded at me. "Mister, get up. We gotta get going! Each of us packed food, gear and weapons. Look, we know all about Saint Michael. I told the other boys this was our chance to escape, but you gotta get up. Saint Michael is with us, but we can't carry you. Come on!"

Swaying on my feet, the boys helped me dress. I shoved my feet into boots and pushed a combat knife into my belt, a pistol into my holster and my good old shotgun over my shoulder. One step forward and the room tilted sideways.

The boys grabbed me by the arms and we started out. To my surprise, no one tried to stop us when we made it through the front door. So ended my brief stint as a sailor. A small worry began to tickle the back of my brain... These boys were efficient killers. Once, I found a book in an old burned out library. The name of the book was Lord of the Flies. Ever read it? Yeah, scary like that. So, I'm happy as fuck to be out of that insane asylum, but I'd better make damn sure these boys and I are BFs for life. You know what I mean?

The next time I opened my eyes I was staring at the side of something that looked like wood. A wagon? Where had that memory come from. At least I had the presence of mind not to flip over on my back, but I had to see. The sound of hooves clip-clopping on the ground was familiar, but...

"He's awake!"

A boy sitting on a bench with leather straps in his hands turned around, "Where to, Mister?"

What was he doing and what were those animals pulling the wagon. Some of the boys were sitting astride… what was I seeing.

I managed to say, "Boston," before losing consciousness again.

* * *

117 (wink)

wiki/Shanghaiing

Saint Micheal: /michael-the-archangel/


	4. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 4

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 4

* * *

When the rocking motion stopped I guess that's what woke me up. With no idea how long I'd slept I couldn't even take a guess at our location. I'd been dreaming about floating all alone in a boat without paddles and Dogmeat barking frantically on the shoreline. I opened my eyes, but they'd rigged some sort of tarp over me so I couldn't get much of a look at the landscape. My leg ached, and my back felt like it was on fire, but good old Dogmeat lay curled against my side snoring peacefully. Lazy dog. You're supposed to be on guard.

"Hey!" I shouted. Waking both my dog and whoever was out there.

The clopping sound of hooved feet stopped. Then scuffling and four young faces peeked at me through an opening in the tarp. They were all smiling.

 _Remember, Jacob. Trained, efficient killers._

"I need to take a piss. How do I get out of this thing?"

They all laughed, "It's called a buckboard, Mister."

Magically the end of this _thing_ I'm laying in opened like a gate or a box. A coffin? With two on each side of me, they helped me slide off the end directly into the path of an enormous animal with four legs and the largest pair of brown eyes I'd ever seen. I forgot about my back and the muscle spasm in my leg. It towered over me staring at me as if it were deciding how I might taste. I grabbed the wagon for support while they boys continued laughing.

"What are these?" I asked, nearly pissing myself at the sight of the five creatures with big yellow teeth and four lethal looking feet.

The boys wouldn't stop laughing, and I think the creature in front of me was getting angry with all the noise. I jumped back up on the gate when it suddenly and violently shook itself from nose to tail.

 _What the fuck?_

"Come on, Mister. We can't stay out here in the open. Take your piss and let's get going. If you feel strong enough, there's one of these for you to ride."

Ride? As in get on top of? I shuffled away to relieve myself. Luckily, when I returned, instead of forcing me to ride one of those monsters they handed me a carton of purified water and an open can of pork and beans. I washed the whole thing down with a Nuka Cola and shared my last four bottles with the boys. I'd recently discovered a cherry flavored Nuka Cola, but that delicious discovery would stay my personal secret.

Seeing as how we got such a late start, instead of moving on we decided to make camp. There was a lake and the cover of a thick stand of rocks and trees. We made a small campfire as night closed in around us. My belly is full, and I'm feeling mostly okay. The boys seemed relaxed, too. It was time for some questions. While I allowed one of the boys rub salve on my back, I started in.

"I have questions, who wants to answer them?" It was the tallest boy who raised his hand. You remember him. He's the one who poked me awake with his serrated knife. "First, my name is Jake. You don't have to call me Mister. Now don't all of you start laughing again, but what are these creatures?"

What I really wanted to ask is just how many adults had these kids had murdered and was there anyone left in the building, and maybe we should go back for some treasure hunting?

"Horses," they all answered.

"Ain't you ever seen one before, Mister… Mister Jacob?"

"Never," I admitted shouldering my shirt and jacket back on. No sense lying about it and it was too late for that anyway since my heroic masculine fearlessness had blown away like the last dust storm.

"Well, we heard it this way. Since the war, someone has always lived in that Academy place and takes over the responsibility of taking care of these horses. Someone, a long time ago, hid some horses in the basement."

"We took five. Are there more?"

The boys looked at each other. Finally, the oldest one spoke. "Yes there's more, but we left them with plenty of food and water. Trouble is if we try to move that many horses someone is bound to see us and you know how that will go."

"I do, indeed. Since there's no one left there now." —This is me being diplomatic. "Shouldn't we make sure they're safe. I mean, aren't they valuable?"

The boys bristled at my comment. As if I were accusing them of something. The oldest boy removed the serrated knife from his belt and started wiping it clean on his pants. They glanced at each other, probably deciding on how best to divide up my stuff after they tossed me into the glowing irradiated lake.

"Look, Mister. We just don't know if we can trust you yet."

"Then why did you bother saving my life back there? You must need something from me, right?"

Geez, what a suspicious bunch. So we watched the night wind blow the dirt around for awhile. And I kept an eye on the horses. You could not convince me those monsters were safe. I mean they're certainly prettier than a Brahmin or a Mole Rat. I might not like the look of them but their potential value could not be denied. I suddenly missed Moira with a feeling of loss that clutched at my heart. I could just see her eyes light up and hear her wheels turning at making a profit off 'em.

"Mister, why don't you go make friends with the horses. Give 'em another flake of that green stuff, while me and the boys have a talk."

I took it slow with a show of dusting off my butt, so I didn't appear as if I were jumping to their orders I made my way to the horses. The boys rigged a rope from a tree to the wagon, and each horse was tied to the rope. Okay, I'll admit standing there relaxed with their hip cocked and their ears slack, as if they were half asleep they didn't seem so menacing. When they heard me tear off a piece of this stiff grassy stuff they perked right up.

Alright, Jake. I tried to reassure myself. You've faced much worse than this with one Stimpak, an empty laser rifle and 10-cal between you and a Death Claw. You can do this. All five creatures...horses, with their ears pricked forward watched me carefully. What if I didn't move fast enough? They looked plenty strong enough to break that rope.

I'll save you the gory details. Turns out I didn't loose any fingers. They each politely accepted a bite with their delicate-looking lips and chewed contentedly on the grass. I tried another. Well, I guess they seemed harmless enough.

Then one of them grabbed for my pocket. I leaped backward and the horse was left with a piece of material between his teeth.

Ha! I won. "You won't eat me you Brute!"

"Mister Jacob, please stop scaring the horses and come back here."

I heard them snickering as I approached. Dropping back down by the fire, "Okay, what's my verdict?"

"You said you wanted to get to Boston. We heard there's lots going on up there. With settlements building up and lots of people cooperating with each other."

I nodded, I heard this news as well. But I wondered where the was heading.

"We want to make you a deal. You help us free those people at that stadium, and we'll gather all the good stuff left at the Academy and together it should be enough people to guard the horses all the way to Boston."

"I think they'd find that a fair trade for being eaten by Mutants." Agreeing with them and a plan forming in my mind. We could take out the two Brutes at the gate with sniper rifles or a well-placed rocket. Then bottleneck them with mines and grenades as they ran out to defend their turf and buffet table.

"Okay, I like it," I responded. I wasn't going to say anything but the tell-tale signs of a fever showing themselves in the sweat on my forehead and the goosebumps on my arms. I held back the shiver and continued. "Been thinking about those folks too. Let's get some rest and we'll head back up the trail."

"It's about two hours back to the stadium," responding as if reading my mind. "So we'll hit 'em just before sunrise."

Just before they got bedded down, I said, "If I didn't say so before, thank you for saving my life back there. Maybe next time we talk, you'll tell me what was really going on there?"

"Maybe. Wake me for the second watch, Mister Jacob. And, my name is Matthew."

I shook my head and shouldered my rifle. Why did I feel as if I'd just won a prize when he told me his name?" These boys had learned to be self-sufficient and trust no one, especially adults. Couldn't say I blamed 'em one bit.

~o0o~

Dogmeat woke me by sticking his wet nose in my ear. Goddamn, dog. When I opened my eyes, he grinned that idiotic dog grin at me. Okay, so it's cute. I rolled out of my bedroll to find the boys up and ready. The fever tickled the edges of my awareness, and my leg felt oddly heavy this morning. Soaked with fever-sweat I quickly pulled my jacket on to cover my wet shirt.

Almost too dark to see we started back to Annapolis. The boys had woven cloth around the metal bits around horse's mouths. Even Dogmeat stayed quiet in the wagon without a whimper, just the occasional thump of his tail on the wood showed his excitement.

Couldn't risk a mini-nuke with all those civilians around so we agreed on a missile launcher. I had the best one of the bunch, so I loaded mine and kept it across my lap it ready The missiles would most likely only slow the Brutes down, but the boys were ready with quality laser rifles and plenty of ammo. I made a mental note not to forget about taking time for treasure hunting at the academy.

The sun hadn't yet breached the horizon when we stopped about a mile from the entrance. The boys parked the horses behind a burned out shed, and we took a position. I watched them disappear into the darkness before I dropped down behind a blasted log. I steadied the weapon aiming at the Brutes. Before I could aim down the scope, I scrubbed my arm across my eye to clear away the slick, cold sweat.

We couldn't risk a light, so we'd settled on a whistle. The Brutes were there just like before, and they appeared half asleep. In fact, they looked a lot like the horses last night.

Four quick whistles. I aimed down the scope and responded.

The first missile flew through the murky morning light, its red tail streaming like a banner behind it. I'm a pretty good shot. Okay, I'm a damn good shot, and the missile impacted the Brute's chest sending gore and body parts in all directions. And just like they always have, the second one failed to take cover. Instead, he looked around for just long enough to allow me to load and aim. I fired, and he started shouting and moving. The second missile impacted his legs, which slowed him down long enough for one of the boys to use his sniper rifle to turn the ugly fucker's head into a mist of green goo.

Score!

Matthew and another boy moved toward the opening scattering fragmentation mines as they ran.

The alarm sounded. Spotlights flared to life swinging over the open land in front of the stadium. Through my scope, I watched the boys dive over the top of a counter and into a concession stand.

One by one, our sniper shot the lights out. Impressive. Maybe I'd give him one of my Cherry Nuka Colas as a thank you.

Ten Mutants poured out of the opening. Might of been twenty. Goddamn, they really are stupid. Every single one of them ran straight across those mines, and one by one they fell killed or crippled. One of the mines exploded an old car and boom. Fuel ignited a wave of flame light up the area. I ducked my head, but not quick enough. Someone saw me, and I knew it when a bullet thudded into the brush next to me. I rolled away trying to stay away from the scope light. Then one of the boys cried out.

"Jacob!"

That sounded like Matthew! "Dogmeat, go see."

The scope light flickered across my face. Shit! I rolled again and took off running after Dogmeat. The sun was coming up now, and I figured we had about a minute before the whole area was light up. I could see Matthew trying to stand and the bloody tear in his pants leg. I whistled for us to form up again when my leg exploded. I felt it give, and I went down trying not cry out after all, someone had to be the adult around here. But, fuck it hurt. I felt something warm and sticky dripping down my calf and into my boot. Dogmeat ran back and forth between us, whining and worrying himself into a frenzy.

"Get down, dog!"

Suddenly the other three boys burst into the clearing just as the sniper scope light scanned us. I watched that kid; he couldn't have been more than ten or eleven calmly drops to one knee while the other boy squatted in front of him. He steadied the rifle on the other's shoulder, took a breath and fired two shots.

The scope light went out, and we heard two screams. Didn't sound like Mutants, though. If they had some people serving as guards we had another fight ahead of us.

"Matthew, can you move?"

"Give us a minute, Mister. We'll get his leg wrapped up."

"We don't have a minute, guys. If there are more guards, we're humped. And my leg just gave out."

My answer came when the morning sun illuminated the stadium entrance. I could see humans aiming from the opening to ignite the remaining mines.

The boys had just about finished tieing up Matthew's leg. I could see tears tracking down his grimy cheeks. Yeah, getting shot is a bitch, kid.

The reality of my leg created an odd feeling of euphoria as the pus drained away. The fever left me in a kind of sleepy chill, and I shivered hard. Everything glittered and swam before my eyes. I wasn't going to faint again, was I? How embarrassing.

In D.C. I was king. Out here, I'm just another corpse in the dead undergrowth of what's left of the trees.


	5. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 5

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 5

AN: Several of you expressed appreciation about Moira being included in the story. So here's a bit more from one of our favorite Wasteland Ladies. And, uh I might have gotten a little carried away with this chapter. Gross warning in effect. You'll know it when you get to it. Thanks for dropping by!

* * *

 _"Hey there, Vault Dweller. You gonna lay there and die or get moving?_

" _Moira? Where are we?"_

" _Planning to waste all that work we did on the Survival Guide or put it to use?"_

" _Yeah, about that guide. Remember the time you sent me to the Anchorage Memorial to place an observation unit in a Mirelurk nest?"_

" _You were the perfect man for the job."_

" _Don't try to flatter me, Sweetheart. I almost died down there. Several times, in fact. Why are you standing way over there? Come here."_

" _Oh now, Jacob. Who patched you up when you came limping back?"_

" _You did. Thank you."_

" _Wanna know a secret?"_

" _You can tell me anything, Moira. Because if you keep talking I can pretend you're still alive. You were always so cheerful and full of life."_

" _Don't be silly. Anyway, I made up special batches of Stimpak just for you. So I could make sure you always came back to me."_

" _That's the reason I love you, Pretty Moira. Come over here and kiss me properly."_

" _I'm sorry, Jacob. You were so brave and handsome. I wish we had more time."_

" _Wait! Don't go."_

"I ain't gonna kiss you! Wake the hell up!"

"Moira?" Dammit, she was right here. I could feel her in my arms. Goddammit! I struck the ground with my fist. Instead of Moira it was Matthew shaking me awake. I wanted it to be real. Just one last time. What a fool I'd been.

Matthew sat back on his heels watching me. There was a new, couldn't say it was clean, bandage on his leg and clean _er_ clothes on his skinny frame.

Reality settled into place and I didn't much like. Reality felt like the open sores on my back and my infected leg. Reality was the smell of open latrines, unwashed people and terrified faces.

"Where are we?"

"Inside the stadium," he said helping sit up. The other three boys were digging into bowls of some kind of stew. It smelled so good I had to drag my attention from the food back to Matthew. And there was Moira's voice still echoing inside my head. "Once we got the Mutants the prisoners were able to overwhelm the rest of the guards. They laid down their arms. Weren't much of a fight."

A woman dressed in rags and a shaved head (apparently lice, along with the cockroaches, survived radiation poisoning) handed me a bowl of stew and a spoon. I nodded my thanks and managed to suppress the urge to wipe the spoon off on my pants.

When I'd eaten enough to raise my head I realized there were more that just the boys, a few people and Dogmeat, but maybe hundreds of people. The odd thing was their appearance. Every one of them were well fed, almost fat and that wasn't something you saw much of these days. Yet, they were dressed in rags. Some of them were a handful of rags away from nudity. When the truth hit me and I very quietly set my bowl down and concentrated on not puking.

Then I heard their voices. All around me voices whispering, "It's him. It's the Lone Wanderer and he saved us."

"Him and Saint Michael and these boys."

"Yes, I heard them, honor courage and commitment."

"I remember my great-grandfather talking about the Navy. I was just a little thing, but I remember that."

"Come up from D.C. just to save us from these Mutants. Bless him and these boys."

"Honor, courage, and commitment."

"Them's good words."

I tried to ignore them and just concentrate on eating, but this was a little silly. All we did was kill some Mutants. Finally an old man with a long gray beard and hair knelt in front of me. I couldn't ignore him. The boys were safe, I was actually alive and there's real food. Leave me alone, okay? But no, that was not to be.

"Mister Jacob. We want you to know how grateful we are to you and your boys here for saving our lives. Whatever or wherever, we're bound to follow you now, sir."

This is not what I want. Shit. I don't want or need hero worship. I just need help getting the horses and kids to safety. Time to take action. The woman removed the food bowls and I took the opportunity to stand. When the crowd began to back away, Matthew came to my side to help support my leg.

"Thanks," I said to him and put my arm around his shoulder. "So what are the other boys names. I need to introduce us."

"The sniper is Luke, the youngest is Andrew and the other is John."

We exchanged a smile and that was nice. I looked up to face the crowd with what I hoped wasn't outright horror. I'd never seen this many people in one place at one time. And I'd seen plenty of suffering and people gone mad from pain or fear or just plain lonely, but nothing like this. Ever. Any words I'd pulled together drifted away.

Matthew whispered to me, "Say thanks."

Uh, yeah. That's a good idea. Smart kid.

"Thank you for taking care of us. We've had a rough time getting here." I stopped talking for a short round of applause. "Please, stop. When I first came through here a few days days ago, I noticed Mutants guarding the stadium, but it was really the boys who insisted we come over here and help if we could. They've been living at the Naval Academy and knew you were here as prisoners."

Well, they were listening to me so I kept going. "My reason for traveling through here was heading to Boston. The boys, John, Andrew, Matthew, Luke and I talked it over and we want to move some large merchandise to the Commonwealth area, but we need more protection than just the handful of us. So here's my offer. We've heard there's good things happening in Boston. People cooperating and building communities and watching out for each other.

As many of you that wants to can come with us. I'll make sure you're paid for your trouble. I know some of you may have families you want to get back to and if it's on the way to Boston, we'll make sure you get there safely. Take some time and think about it and we can leave in a couple of days. We need to head over to the Academy anyway. We'll bring back all we can carry in the way of clothes and food. And if any able-bodied folks who can handle a weapon, accompany us over there that would be great."

I took a breath. That was probably more words than I'd ever said at one time. There was another round of applause, a lot of smiles and a few tears.

As people began to wander away two men stayed behind. One of them offered his hand. "You'll want to be careful heading over there. Bad things going on."

I shook his hand, "I appreciate the warning, but I've already learned my lesson over there and the boys are the ones who got me out of there alive."

"Reckon there's plenty of loot to be had," he said with an eye on us and glance toward the Academy."

"You're welcome to come with us," I said in a friendly tone. And thought to myself, sorry brother, these boys got squatter's rights.

As it turned out we had three men and a woman volunteer to walk over with us. The huge front doors opened easily, but once we were inside the smell of the place put us all on edge. I'd walked through some creepy places, but this was bad. The United States Navy had been an honorable and ancient institution. This place had an ugliness to it. An evil smell that permeated everything.

"Matthew, how many adults lived here?"

When he didn't answer me I turned to see all four of them standing immobile, wide-eyed and pale.

"Guys, you said they were all gone." When they still wouldn't look at me, I walked over to Matthew, scattering debris under my feet, and tilted his chin. I felt his shivering fear under my fingers. "If there are more people here you need to tell me now. Otherwise, there's nothing to worry about. Right? We've got your back. You're not alone anymore."

His throat clenched and he swallowed hard. With his eyes wide and cheeks pale it was difficult not to think of him as just another scared child trying to survive day by day.

"Come on, there must be some stuff you want to keep. Then let's go get those horses. You know I need your help with them."

"Um, there are more of us."

Here it comes. "More of us, as in adults?"

"No, kids like me."

Andrew stepped up. "Not kids like us. Bad kids. Kids they used to shanghai people, steal stuff and sell 'em to the Mutants."

As gently as possible I turned to Andrew. "Andrew, where are they?"

"In cells. Um, in the basement."

"So they brought the kids here and the adults to the stadium."

All four boys hung their heads. Although my leg screamed in protest, I knelt down in front of the boys. "I'm not mad. Okay. We're here to save those horses and get you to a place where you can have a better life." I really did not want to ask the next question, but if there was a chance. I had to ask.

"Do you think your parents might still be over there?"

The boys shook their heads. "No sir, Mister Jacob. We was four orphans just traveling up that road out there looking for food. The bad boys lured us in and we got the food alright and a beating."

The woman reached out for Matthew and squeezed his shoulder. "That was a brave thing you did, Matthew. Telling us about the bad boys. Keeping things inside only make them seem scarier."

"Yes, ma'am. Could we go check on the horses now?"

I think we all took a deep breath just then. There was just one thing I had to do and it had to be me. "Why don't you show them where the horses are and I'll catch up with you in a minute."

The cells were an easy find. Funny how the smell of death and old blood hangs in the air. Death was an old friend in this old building. It walked the halls and drifted through the air. It loved the sound of frightened children and the moans of folks who've lost hope. It's the boogeyman who lived under your bed or the reactor room like the used to tell us in the Vault. We used to dare each other to go in. Thirty seconds was the rule. In about thirty seconds I planned to leave this behind and get back outside.

I rounded the last corner and came upon a long hallway. My footsteps echoed in the gloom. I counted eight cells, four on each side. To my left the cell doors stood hanging open, rusted and bent. As if boys had used them like a jungle gym. Rotten straw and human feces lay forgotten on the floor of the open cells.

On the right, the first boy lay where he'd fallen next to the adjoining cell wall where his neighbor had cut his throat for him.

That stew flooded my mouth. I had to spit it out on the floor. My eyes burned. They'd cut each other's throat. But, the fourth boy. The fourth boy lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. He didn't have the courage to cut his own throat. They must have known there would be no one to finish him off. So eventually he cut his wrists open. But he didn't know how to do it right, because he was only a boy. So it took him longer to bleed out.

In one hand was the razor, in the other a piece of his neighbor's arm. Just a small piece. Big enough to keep a boy going for another day or two.

Maybe if we got here sooner. Nobody's fault really. The room spun out from under my feet.

Bite marks. The bite marks on the flesh… Small, you know. Like a kid's teeth. The sight of it burned itself into my brain.

My legs gave out and I wretched until I thought my eyes might burst.


	6. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 6

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 6

AN: Figured I'd better lighten this up a bit. Thanks for stopping by.

* * *

Let me say this before we begin. There were more than just a few horses. A lot more. When the boys opened those massive oak doors I nearly screamed. I don't know much about these creatures, but watching them thundering toward me left me a little weak in the knees. Matthew is screaming something at me to do something. Something important. All that fades from my memory as I realized these things don't like being cooped up and apparently they're also thirsty and possibly hungry. I'm standing in the worst possible place.

And here I stand with my boots stuck to the ground. All those folks we rescued from the stadium watching. Am I scared? Fuck, yes! Then I remember something Moriarity said to me once. 'Boy, he said, if you're ever stuck out there with nowhere to run, just don't act like prey. Prey run away screaming in fear.'

While I'm telling myself not to run, stand still and hold my ground. I'm also counting how many of those hooves it will take before I'm ground into dust. I've seen the results of folks getting stampeded to death by Brahmin. You don't want to know. But you do don't you? Blood, guts and bones, that's all I'm saying.

They're so close now I can smell them. Their eyes are wild and there's some kind of foam coming out of their mouth. Churning hooves obscure my view in a cloud of dust. I have no idea how many there are. That's okay, it'll all be over after the first twenty or so. Maybe twenty-five.

"Grab the lead mare!"

That's Matthew shouting at me again.

"GRAB THE FUCKING LEAD MARE!"

A lead mare? "WHAT'S A LEAD MARE?" I shouted right back. Fear pumped through me like too much rotgut booze and threatens to come right out the business end of Big Jake.

"THE ONE WITH THE ROPE DANGLING FROM HER HALTER, YOU STUPID VAULT DWELLER"

The most amazing thing happened. Two feet from me and they divided right around me and kept going. Black ones, brown ones, little ones and big ones. The really big one with a very very large… Never mind, you get the picture. Right behind him is a very pretty reddish color horse with four white legs and a white streak on her nose. Hey, she's wearing something around her head and there's a rope dangling from it.

The lead mare! I have just a second or two before she rushed past me so I reached out and grab the rope.

Fortunately, the boys gave me some good leather gloves to wear.

Boom! Just like that my feet leave the ground. They promised she'd stop when I had the rope in my hands. They lied.

With the rope in one hand I grabbed hold of the hair hanging along the ridge of her neck. With my fear urging me on I took a good hold of it. The force of her movement and my body weight flipped me neatly onto her back. Momentum. Hey, I do remember something from school. Now I have a clear view of the ground we're covering. And you guessed it, heading straight for the water.

It doesn't take long for us to arrive at the shoreline. They are fast movers, I'll give them that. Just about the time I figure out how to hang on with my legs clamped around her ribs and my hands fisted into the hair she stopped. Momentum lifted me off her back and high into the air.

This is interesting. For a man who's spent his growing up years under the ground and the rest of the time with his feet on the ground spinning through the air did have its appeal. There's the boys watching me with their mouth's hanging open. The horses jostle for position to get at the water. The big guy is telling them to hurry up and get in formation around the shoreline. No doubt about it, he's the boss. He's the Overseer.

I'm thinking about how much RadAway is in my pack when I hit the water. The lash wounds screamed at me when I landed flat on my back. All the air in my lungs went out with a whoosh. Great. When I finally get my bearings, the surface seemed far away and there's little air for me to hold while I push toward it.

Gasping and nearly blind from rads burning my eyes, I got my head out of the water and swam for the horses. Then something grabbed me by my collar. Shit! I managed to twist away. With no way to know what took hold of me I knew that was my one chance to get away. It could be anything and me with nothing but my fists to defend myself.

Dogmeat barked once in frustration and made another grab for me. Fucking dog! Scared the shit out of me. But he's grinning and I decide to forgive him. I slipped my fingers under his collar and we made for shore.

Okay, long story, short. The group of folks who decided to accompany us helped me out of the water. One of them shot a couple of Stimpaks into me, while another shoved two RadAway tablets down my throat. The boys start stipping my clothes off. Once I'm down to my red and green boxers two of the women rinse me off with purified water. Ice cold, but it sure felt good on my burning eyes. For the first time, in a longer than I can remember I wished for my power armor.

Hadn't worn that armor since my "fall out" with Elder Lyons. Turned out political discussions involving The Outcasts, Anchorage, Defender McGraw and especially that cute little blonde number Specialist Olin pissed him off. Hell of an experience and I learned a few valuable lessons during my time with them. Lessons like Elder Lyons isn't the freaking messiah and stuff like that. All of which I learned to keep my mouth shut about. The bad taste stayed though and gradually I stopped reporting in or keeping my armor in shape.

Over the years I discovered I got along just fine with my wits, the right weapons and common sense. Not like I wasn't doing the same job, so I never felt guilty about it. Although, Lyons would have liked me better if I'd been properly contrite. All of which reminded me that I'd better be careful when we headed into the Philadelphia area.

"Hey! Vault Dweller. You still with us?"

I caught Matthew by his jacket and hauled him in. "If you call me that one more time, I'm gonna whip your ass. Understood?"

His grimy cheeks went pale, his eyes glassy and his mouth opened wide. Too late I realized I'd just scared him—not regular scared—but Academy scared. Shit. I shoved an arm out of my blanket and hugged him for a second.

"Goddamnit kid, you're gonna teach me about these horses." I said into his hair. "Deal?"

He scrambled away and drew himself up. "Honor, courage, commitment! Aye, sir!"

"Good. While my clothes dry, what more can we do with these horses and folks to get on the road?"

Still at attention, he said, "Me and the boys saddled up our horses and work as outriders to keep any strays with the herd. We'll keep the lead mare tied to the buckboard and the others will follow her with no problem."

"What about the Big Guy?"

"He'll follow her. No problem."

"Good job, Matthew. You and the boys did a real good job by thinking all this out on your own."

The grin he shot me made just about everything that occurred in the last four days just about worth it. Dammit, I'm _not_ getting attached to these boys. Getting attached usually ensured a quick death. It never lasted long, or long enough. As he ran off, I realized it was probably too late to give myself that lecture.

~o0o~

And hour later, with the buckboard reins in my hand and Luca's Sims hat on my head, I'm feeling like a real cowboy. Dogmeat looked well satisfied sitting next to me on the wooden seat. Barring the usual obstacles like Mutants, our immediate problem is crossing the Severn river. One of the men told us when he'd come south to D.C. the river had been mostly dry under the bridge. Well, it was as good as a direction as any so we headed north, by sticking to the coast. The horses didn't spook at the dozens of Mirelurks we saw moving around the shoreline. Plenty of food if we needed it. I hated those damn things, but cooked right they were tasty. Moira had a recipe...Dang, I gotta stop thinking about her.

We made good time—in spite of my altercation with the lake—with enough daylight left to see us into the outskirts of Baltimore just as the sun set. Another two hours of walking would have seen us to Fort McHenry, but everyone was tired, so we picked a spot under a large stand of trees and let the horses graze while we set up a small camp. In the morning we'd head to the Fort for supplies.

Everyone shared their food and began to tell stories. I noticed they stayed away from what happened inside the stadium and stuck with where they came from and the how's and why's of how they got there. One or two folks broke out some musical instruments and everyone relaxed listening to the music. Couple of folks got up and danced. Then someone sang a song, then another. At some point, Matthew and the other boys had gathered around me and I guess this put me in a mood. So I stood and borrowed a guitar. Yeah, I could sing. I learned how back in the Vault. Although none of the Vault kids understood the lyrics. Ten years in the Wasteland had taught me the meaning.

"How many roads must a man walk down

Before they call him a man?

How many seas must a white dove sail

Before she sleeps in the sand?

How many times must the cannonballs fly

Before they're forever banned?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind

The answer is blowing in the wind.

How many years must a mountain exist

Before it is washed to the sea?

How many years can some people exist

Before they're allowed to be free?

How many times can a man turn his head

and pretend that he just doesn't see?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind

The answer is blowing in the wind.

How many times must a man look up

Before he can see the sky?

How many ears must one man have

Before he can hear people cry?

How many deaths will it take till he knows

That too many people have died?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind

The answer is blowing in the wind."

By the last verse almost everyone was singing along and it surprised me that anyone knew the words. That made me wonder who out there had also grown up in a Vault. But no one stepped forward and I decided not to ask. It seemed a nice way to end the evening and several folks shook my hand and wished me goodnight. After I saw to the boys and they assured me the horses weren't going anywhere, I took first watch.

A full moon rose and I watched it track across the sky. The horses stamped and shook out their coats as they settled in. I'm starting to warm up those those beasts and I'll have to admit after watching the boys ride all day, I'm feeling like it might be time to learn.

Down the road, another guard waved to me and I waved back. Odd though, that I felt safe out here on open road. Then I realized, it's because I'm so used to being alone. I'm not alone tonight and it didn't feel too bad.

I listened to the sound of a Brahmin pulling into camp. You could always hear them coming a mile away. Before I could get up and check I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, Jake. How's it going."

I turned and a grin hit my face. It was Crazy Wolfgang. We shook hands and I made room for him on the dead log.

"What's new?" He asked and passed me a bottle of whiskey.


	7. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 7

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 7

* * *

The next morning dawned clear and warm. We gathered shopping lists and caps, then about ten of us headed down to Fort McHenry. We took Wolfgang's Brahmin and the buckboard while the others stayed behind to guard the horses and each other. Wolfgang and I sat on the seat, talking over the pathetic cries of his Brahmin following after at a frantic jog. Apparently he wasn't accustomed to Wolfgang sitting up so high surrounded by these weird looking creatures. Okay, they're horses. I shared a grin with Wolfgang. It was a beautiful morning and I welcomed his company.

Last night we sat together on that dead log, shared the bottle of whiskey and got to know each other. Naturally, we solved the problems of the world. Whiskey provides you with that level of insight. A very different conversation than our usual hurry-up-and-decide-before-the-bad-guys-show-up transactions of our D.C. days. We travelled the short trip south to Fort McHenry in companionable silence watching the countryside and pointing out interesting features to each other along the way.

Like most outposts, the Fort could boast an array of shops selling mostly the same stuff I'd seen in D.C. Apparently, after all these decades we still hadn't run out of Fancy Lady Snack Cakes or BlamCo Mac & Cheese. Everyone watched the horses and asked questions about them. We kept quiet about the real number. In fact, other than the two pulling the buckboard we didn't mention the others. I might be feeling big hearted about my fellow man this morning, but I haven't lost my mind.

We saw personal size water purifiers. Just large enough to provide water to a small farm. That was new. The guy said he was buying them from up north in the Commons area. He said there were larger machine available, but he didn't have a way to get them back to Fort McHenry, he eyed the buckboard appreciatively. Wolfgang is nodding his head. I can appreciate a profitable business deal when I see it, so I let him know I was travelling to Boston.

Another reason to head north. It was beginning to seem as if I were fated to visit Boston and the Commonwealth. Then two things happened that made me wish I were back in my little house in Megaton.

Wolfgang and I stood chatting at a vendor's table enjoying some purified water and mutfruit when a vertibird suddenly roared over the top of us, scattering merchandise and sending people screaming for cover. Luckily, I had one hand on the horse's bridle or they might have taken off. They didn't even try to run, just stood there trembling. Wolfgang began petting them, smoothing their coats and whispering calming words.

That could only have been the Brotherhood. Suddenly I wanted very much to get back to those people and the horses. Shouting to the others, they scrambled back to the wagon. We tossed the remainder of our purchases in the wagon and took off. I told five of the men to scatter and take a different route back to camp. The other three climbed in the back of the wagon with their weapons drawn.

Wolfgang grabbed his Brahmin's halter and waved us away. "No one will pay attention to me and you'll make better time without us," he said nodding toward his fretting Brahmin.

I couldn't argue with his logic. But I sure as fuck wanted him by my side for what was to come. You see? That's what happens when you get attached to people. You start depending on them instead of yourself. With a final wave, he disappeared into the frightened crowd just as a loudspeaker shouted my name.

" _Knight Jacob, aka Lone Wanderer you are wanted by the Brotherhood of Steel for treason and desertion. Lay down your arms and surrender."_

Just in case I wasn't taking them seriously a red dot appeared on my chest. I knew they might not kill me outright, but they would take one of their fuel cannons to this wagon and I don't even want to think about the consequences to the people around me. I'm down to one choice and I don't like it. Not one damn bit.

In that wagon were gifts for the boys. I'd bought them new clothes, along with ammo, food, and a basket of fresh fruit. Among the hundreds of bottles of liquor I found the scotch my Dad used to drink. In a fit of nostalgia I bought it with plans to share it with Wolfgang. You see what I mean? Getting soft is bad business and the results had me backing away from the wagon with my hands in the air. Very quickly the folks got the idea and there I stood all alone. The buckboard disappeared over the ridge line.

Could I make a run for it? Sure. But I know how well trained those boys are and unless I could lose myself in a maze of city buildings (which were sadly lacking around here) they'd gun me down. They take charges like treason and desertion seriously. No, I'm not ready to take a bullet for anyone. If they killed me they would still go after the people and the horses. So my one choice remained the only option. Fuckity-fuck, fuck.

The vertibird landed and out jumped two very well armed Knights. I counted two more, including the pilot inside the bird. All of them in full armor. Next to the pilot's chair I saw a shotgun. Just in case I tried something at close range.

If I could I hold them here for a while. Waste some time to allow the others to get away. Even if I could run or overcome all four of these OCD brutes they'd only come after me again and again. All of which put the boys and the others in very serious and very real danger. I could hear the radio chatter and the pilot bragging about how they'd caught me. What I didn't hear was any mention of the horses or people.

With an aching heart, I tossed my pride in the dirt, dropped to my knees and started begging for mercy. And for that bit of selflessness I was rewarded with a rifle butt to my chest. Knocked the wind right out of me. They jerked me to my feet and tried to quick-march me into the aircraft.

"Lighten up, guys. We were brothers, once. I just got sidetracked. You know how it is. Right?"

Apparently, they didn't because their answer was to throw me against the side of the vertibird. Ouch.

The taller of the two Knights stuck the business end of his laser rifle in my face. "You shame all of us with your behavior and disregard for our philosophy and laws."

I had to throw the bullshit flag on that one. I stood straight and squared my shoulders. That comment pissed me off. "I wore that armor proudly for five years. If Anchorage opened my eyes to a few things, well that's my business. I haven't worn the armor since, but I do my part in protecting people and collecting technology. I'm still a believer, goddammit."

Well, I'm mostly still a believer. They looked at each other and looked back at me. The minutes ticked past giving everyone a chance to put some distance between these idiots and them. I'd walked them away from the vertibird while I'd been talking and managed to get them between me and the bird. I was thinking fast how to waste more time when I saw the end of a missile launcher protrude from the trees just over one of the Knight's shoulder.

Everything slowed down. The Knights must have seen my expression because they turned toward the trees. I rolled into a ball and threw myself at their feet. Fortunately for my precious butt, they stood close together creating a nice barrier between me and the ball of flame formerly known as a vertibird. The concussion knocked them both down on top of me. But I had more warning than they did so I made a grab for their weapons. One of them wasn't moving. The other scrambled to get back on his feet. We had to move away from the fire, it was that hot. With both weapons trained on him I backed him toward the treeline.

In the distance I heard the sound of galloping horses.

"Killing me will only add to your crime," he said gravely he voice filtered by the helmet. "The deaths of the other Knights is also on your head now."

"I didn't kill them, you did! And you almost killed hundreds of innocent people here trying to stop me. I'm nothing. Leave me alone and let me get on with my life, damn you! I refuse to become your instrument of revenge."

"You are mistaken, Jacob. You represent hope to these people."

What? Not Knight Jacob? I decided to let this arrogant asshole have it, both barrels. "Then what are you afraid of? They won't need you anymore? They'll use technology to better their own lives without waiting for you to dole it out?"

The vertibird burned behind him. I didn't even know who I was talking to, yet it felt like all the disillusionment from the last five years was pouring out of me. I'd killed twice as many Mutants and Raiders as this bunch and saved more than a few lives. Unlike them I didn't hide behind armor and antiquated rules and I didn't need to brag about it. I did learn a few things in the Vault, even if most of it came to haunt me later.

The sound of horses coming up behind me. Oh, hell. They're gonna make me ride one of those things.

"Look Knight, I'm gonna leave you here with your life." I stuck my finger against his chest, with the laser rifle pointed at his head with my other hand. Probably not to smart to get this close to him, but I was ready to be done with this whole scene.

I heard Matthew's voice. Five horses slid to a stop behind me. I felt a pair of reins draped across my shoulder. I vaulted aboard like I'd been doing it all my life.

"Remember what I said, Brother!" I shouted down at him and followed Matthew and the other boys into the woods like we were outlaws racing for a train.

We rode for at least a mile before slowing down. By then we were far enough from the group to feel safe and fast enough we could move fast enough to hide from another vertibird. I doubted those Knights had time to radio for backup, but eventually they'd be expected to report in. Or maybe, just maybe that Knight would think about what I said long enough to make the right decision. I just hung on and hoped my horse would follow the others. He did, and we finally slowed to a walk and shared a tin of purified water.

"We rescued you!"

That was the youngest, John. Instead of giving them all a beating for risking their lives, our future profit, the horses, the people who put their trust in us just to save me. I managed a polite thank you. And that was all I could really manage. For reasons I had yet to examine that had taken something out of me. Or maybe I what I felt was a weight off my shoulders?

The boys stayed quiet while we road and that was good because I was in no mood for conversation. The sun was high in the sky before we turned north to catch up with our caravan.

It was noon the next day when we found them on the road. I'm proud to say, I know how to ride a horse now. Sadly, I can no longer walk. Not really sure how those boys do it and if they keep laughing at me everything I stumble toward my bedroll I'm gonna rethink that beating.


	8. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 8

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 8

* * *

Can't complain about the weather. All four days on the road the skies are clear and the breeze blowing off the ocean kept the bugs off us. Well, some of the bugs. Some of those crazy fucks take a two or three blasts from a good shotgun to bring down. And no, I don't eat them. I know some do and I always grab the meat when I've got the stomach for it because it sells. I've never been that _hungry_. My favorite is Instamash. Chop up some Brahman meat and whatever veggies you find and pour it in a dutch oven. Mix up a batch of Instamash and spread it over the top. Now, that's good eating. Pretty good with Pork'nBeans too.

Like I said, on the road for four days now and we're all tired. If it weren't for those boys… Well, I'm not a kid anymore, but it's difficult not to get caught up in the boy's enthusiasm. Now that I'm riding a horse of my own the boys decided we're a gang of bloodthirsty robbers who take from the rich and give to the poor called The Highwayman. Where do they get this stuff?

The outskirts of Philadelphia came into view as we topped a steep rise on a windy clear day. Although it had rained the night before the wind blew the clouds away first thing. Not Philadelphia. As if the city had been burning for two hundred years, the entire area was hidden under a cloud of greasy black smoke. No one had anything thing good to say about, so we unanimously decided to avoid the place. By sticking to the coastline we managed to skirt that city. Only problem, there's no way to avoid New York without adding a full day and night to our time.

Accustomed to our routine, the horses plodded along with their heads hanging low. Even the boys were tired of the road by our fifth day and I had to agree with them. My ass felt black and blue, the fever still hovered over me like a bird that might strike again and the stripes on my back burned. I didn't let on, but I was having trouble swallowing. This was not the time to get sick again. No one knew what we might find in New York City.

On the seventh day, we stopped in a large field in sight of the famous city. Many burned out skyscrapers still stood tall as testament to their builders. No fires or dirty clouds either. We decided to send the boys out as scouts. Their orders were to get as close to the city as possible, use the binoculars to scout out the streets and take a circular route back in case anyone is watching.

So far we'd been really lucky with the horses. We lost one to a Yao guai. As bad as you can imagine that thing came out of nowhere and dragged down one of the younger horses.

I got to know the horses as we road along. Some of them like to walk safely in the middle of the herd. A few, like this young mare enjoyed getting out of the dust once in awhile to kick up her heels. She was pretty to watch, kicking and rearing and shaking her head. After a few minutes the lead mare would nip at her to get back into the herd and she always complied. Yesterday, just as the sun sent rays across the flat land the little mare took off. She disappeared into the sunlight but I didn't worry because the lead mare would bring her back to safety.

That's not what happened.

A familiar low growl caught my attention over the sound of people talking and the clop, clop of the hooves. I grabbed a flamer from the wagon and kicked my horse to a run toward the direction of the sound. The growling grew louder and deeper. Then the mare screamed. The sound of it was terrifying. Like she knew she was dying. Horrible, sad sound. I didn't realize it right away, but the lead mare charged right on my tail. We galloped straight between the Yao Guai and the mare but it was too late.

It occurred to me that these horses didn't even know what what was out here to fear. She probably never understood about the danger of a fast moving Yao Guai. The son of a bitch bit clean through her neck. With another scream she dropped to her knees and twitched while quickly bleeding out. That's a sight you don't want to see. One minute they're graceful and pretty, the next they're screaming in fear and dying at your feet.

Now, I had to defend the lead mare. She was plenty pissed off, but she didn't understand about Yao guai. How could I aim the nozzle without hitting my own horse. I didn't dare try it. I jumped down drawing the Yao Guai's attention away from the horses. The trigger released a stream of flaming gas and the monster reared back in surprise. I hit him again and he began to weaken. The smell of burning air hung like hot grease in the air, choking me and watering my eyes.

The sound of galloping caught my attention and when I turned to shout at the boys to stay back, assuming that's who it was. No, that black stallion ran past me with his head down. I'd never seen anything move so fast. Wait, Deathclaws. They could freaking move. That stallion charged the Yao Guai with every muscle in his body. Like a bullet out of the most powerful weapon in the Wasteland with his neck muscles bunched he aimed himself, all four feet left the ground and he hit the Yao Guai dead center. They both rolled for several yards grunting with pain and trying to catch their breath.

The stallion recovered first and with his huge teeth bared, lunged at the thing tearing at its throat. Blood gushed from the wound, covering the stallion's feet and neck when he then reared up and came down on its head. Again and again until there was nothing left but a pile of goo. All I could hear was the crunch of bone and the stallion's rage-driven squeals.

It was all over in a handful of minutes, it just seemed like forever. With the last of his strength the stallion curled himself around the mare checking her over with his nose. I caught my horse and walked up to the pair slowly. All four of us stood with our heads together chests heaving trying to catch a breath. I've seen some things. Things I can't even talk about, but I'd never seen anything like that. The violence and the power put tears in my eyes. I could only stare in humble gratitude at these magnificent animals. I was hooked. I was in love.

The boys and a handful of men came running up. I waved them off and they set about skinning the Yao Guai making excited plans to roast it for dinner. I couldn't share their enthusiasm. Not with my stomach tied in knots. Just the thought of smelling that thing burning again splashed bile into my throat. I gathered up my horse and the flamer. The four of us walked slowly back to camp. That night I dragged my bedroll upwind of the cooking smells and spent a night tossing and turning. One minute I woke soaked through with sweat and the next shivering. Dogmeat stayed close until the stars finally disappeared from the sky.

I had the horses saddled and the buckboard packed before anyone else woke. The need to move clenched my muscles and kept my stomach churning. Gradually, people began stirring. They could tell I was ready to go, so their movements quickened. Good. Watching the sun come up as an exercise in patience, I sipped a cup of tea one of the girls brought me. A very pretty girl with blond hair and blue eyes, every time she spoke to me she blushed and stammered. In spite of her shyness she brought me tea each morning and each morning went away unhappy with my response to her attentions. I know what you're thinking. She's just damn kid!. And so far as I know, I haven't left any brats in D.C. and I'm not about to start now. Maybe that day would come, maybe it wouldn't… Now what's got me thinking about this?

I tossed the remainder of the tea on the ground and mounted my horse, shouting for the others to get moving.

New York proved a disappointingly silent ghost town. No raiders, no mole rats or Mutants. A big fat nothing. But that intrigued me. There had to be someone in that jungle of burned out buildings trying to survive. Folks looking to trade or work for caps. Nothing but silence as we picked our way over the broken shoreline. I made a promise to myself to come back and do some exploring.

I finally had to admit that so used to the everyday violence of D.C. I hadn't expected so much silence, so few people and empty land. A sadness I couldn't explain away and anxiety at how few of us remained began to haunt my thoughts. Was it all an illusion? If there were crazy despots in D.C. there's bound to be a few in other cities. Some lunatic gaining a following with the promise of caps and loot. Settlers scratching out a living in the irradiated earth. I hoped so.

We made good time through New York we were on the road to Boston by dusk. Everyone wanted to keep going and make camp at Vault 111. I couldn't argue the point, but travelling at night was never a good idea. I doubt I could have stopped them. Once we turned North the landscape changed to hilly brush-country. With plenty of hiding places for the usual list of ugly fuckers who'd happily eat us for dinner.

We climbed steadily for about an hour then came upon hill with a flat top. And there it was, Vault 111. This was a different Vault than the one I grew up in. That exit led directly outside. This seemed to an elevator, although I couldn't be sure. Time enough to look in the morning. I was tired and felt more like puking than eating and if I laid down I might never get up again.

Once everyone was settled I took a walk around. My head felt light as if it might float off my shoulders. But that couldn't happen, right?

Hey, there's lights over there. My feet found a path and I followed it down to a creek and back up behind some houses. I could hear people talking and a dog barking. Dogmeat answered and very soon another dog joined us on the trail. You'd have thought these two were long lost friends or something they way they touched noses and chased each other.

It's like they were talking to each other.

What kind of lights do they have here? I had to shade my eyes against the glare and fuck my head hurt. Finally, I managed to find the street or the front of the house or something.

So many voices. Why were they talking so loud?

Hey wait...over in that driveway...damn these lights hurt…But I can see it. There's a couple of sets of power armor.

Just to my left I smelled cooking. What was that smell? It smelled like something warm and good to eat. Instead of the driveway I stepped inside the house. I mean the door was open…

With my hands gripping the door frame I looked around. This was a home. Someone's actual house. Expecting to see someone in the kitchen...but there wasn't. Still that smell drew me inside.

"Hello?" Damn why does my voice sound like I'm drunk.

I hear crying. I followed the sound down a short hallway.

This woman was leaning against a crib. I could hear snatches of a song. It sounded like

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word.

Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing,

Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring…"

She had long red hair hanging lose around her shoulders. When she scrubbed the tears away I could see her pretty face. A pretty face without the usual scars or weathered appearance of so many of us. Weird that the crib is empty...

I stumbled into the room and she gasped.

"Sorry," I managed. Damn, she's gonna think I'm drunk. "Moira? Sweetheart, could you point me in the direction of the man who owns that power armor?"

That sounded pretty good. I didn't have a chance to try again because the floor rushed up to meet my face. I remembered noticing the rug had little rocket ships on it.


	9. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 9

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 9

AN: So far the story hasn't revealed any Fallout 4 spoilers. From this chapter on, since I have no idea where you are in the game or if you've even started Fallout 4, I'll have to call **Spoiler Alert**. Thanks again for all the favs, comments and follows. Just so you know, I never, ever simply regurgitate the game plot and dialogue. Where's the fun in that? Thanks for dropping by.

* * *

" _Humans weak. Strong never get sick. Not enough meat to pick off bones. Why save this one?"_

A fucking Mutey? I swung my arm reaching for a weapon, any weapon. Someone close cried out and something crash to the floor. The tone, the manner of speaking and the question dragged me out of the whatever ditch I'd fallen into, _this time._ The sensation of being unable to speak or move was like a bad dream. Only this is bad because I'm pretty sure I'm almost awake. If I could just get my eyes to open.

Other voices taunted me in a maddening swirl of confusion and pain. And someone kept forcing liquid down my throat. When I get my hands around their neck, it'll be a different day. The voices, the worry there's a green skin close enough to get at me faded, in spite of my determination, and I slept again. A gentle hand soothed me with soft words and a cold cloth, but the voices continued.

" _His name is Jacob, ma'am. We came from Annapolis with these people and the horses."_

" _He saved us, Ma'am. Saved all of us!"_

I know that sound. It's the boys, and they seem excited. The sound of their voices calms me. I'm glad they're safe. I hear them retelling the story of how we got here. They must be outside.

The sound of pounding feet and a new voice.

" _These horses! Do you know what the Minutemen could do with horses? Faster, stronger, our response time cut in half."_

" _Calm down, Preston. Everyone says the horses belong to him. Let's see if we can keep him alive long enough to ask him. Concentrate on keeping Strong and his buddies from eating them."_

" _What? No. Strong only have human, buddies. Mutant buddies? Hmm, questionable."_

" _Knight, this man is not your only charge. You have responsibilities, and you cannot hide him forever. These people are waiting for you to disburse them to the settlements."_

" _I haven't forgotten, Paladin Danse. I haven't forgotten. I'm not the only one who can assign them. Am I?"_

" _Seven days, eight hours and five minutes since you left his side. Are you hiding something? I wonder."_

" _Leave it alone, Danse. Leave it alone."_

The sound of heavy boots and a door closing. I heard her inhale deeply, then let a long lonely sounding sigh.

"You can open your eyes. Everyone is gone, and you need to eat. Unless you'd like to knock the bowl out of my hands again?"

This time, when I forced my eyes open, the red-haired woman's worried face swam into view. At first, she's all liquid blue eyes and soft edges. Until finally, my eyes obey my will, and I see her. Beautiful in a way that's not just pretty, but strong. When her eyes glance at me, I see intelligence. The dark shadows under her eyes, reflecting the blue irises into a storm cloud of exhaustion. There's a line forming between her eyes that I'm betting wasn't there until recently. She's young, and her auburn hair is clean and scraped away from her face with a band.

"Did I hear you call someone Paladin?" Ah, hell. By the look on her face, I should have thought to ask her name. Nice going, Jake.

She doesn't answer me. While she's ringing out the cloth, I reached up and pulled the band from her hair. The silky red hair fell over my hands and around her face. For a moment, her expression is hidden, but I heard the sharp intake of breath.

"That's better," I said, my voice sounding not at all like I expected. How long had I been out?

Sure am spending a lot of time on my back these days.

She tied her hair back with quick hands and tossed the cloth over my face.

"Can you manage this soup by yourself?"

My angel is leaving, and I don't want to be alone in this dark room.

"Hey, wait."

She's no listening. Enough of this. I grabbed the cloth and pushed myself up. The room tilted, and I had to force myself not to throw up all over the clean floor. Yeah, clean. The room doesn't smell of dust and decay. It smells of fresh air and the bowl of mutfruit on the nightstand. Mutfruit trees outside the windows are fragrant and heavy with purple fruit. In the distance, I hear the sound of a generator humming. A generator? Nice. I'm still in the house I remember.

Would the floor hold me up? I tested the idea by placing my—clean!—feet on the floor. Sweat broke out from every pore in my body. The good part? My leg didn't hurt anymore, and I couldn't feel the strips on my back. In fact, I felt better than I had since I first set out. I guess there's something to that idea of good food and rest.

Without much effort, she pushed me back down on the bed.

She rounded on me. "You fool!"

I'd gotten a peek outside the window before she pushed me down. I hear voices and the sound of the boys still talking excitedly. Just down the street, I saw the horses gathered under a huge oak tree. Some of them are laying down and a few still munching on hay. The stallion whinnied then settled. What was that? Lights out, in horse talk? As if to prove my words, the sun dropped below the horizon, and the lights of this little town blazed. I'd never seen so much light.

The front door looked doable, so I headed there. Just as I reached for the handle it opened. When I leaned back, the whole damn world tilted and now there's a woman with her arms around my waist. Hey, I'm not dead. I put my arm around her shoulders and hauled her close just to see how she would react. Her reaction? She spun away and pushed me down on a couch like a sack of caps.

"You're cute when you're indignant."

She crossed her arms and glared down at me. If I knew her better, I could have saved myself instead...Well, you know that saying about a shovel and a ditch.

"Sorry, sweetheart." I raised my hands palm up and tried a smile. "Thanks for taking care of me. Is that Paladin, you know the guy who owns all that metal armor, still around? Is that who's taking care of you?"

"Taking care of _me_?"

Where was that soft melodic voice I'd grown used to hearing? What the fuck did I know? Maybe this wasn't the same girl.

"You remind me of someone I used to know." Her eyes narrowed. There I go again, open mouth, insert foot.

"Yes, I'm aware of her. You spoke of someone named Moira." She stopped talking and squared her shoulders. "We've all lost someone, haven't we? You need to be in bed. I don't think you're aware of how close you were to dying."

"Just an infection, right? I did say thank you."

"You had LockJaw, you idiot. Matthew said you injured your leg more than two weeks ago."

"In my defense, I did treat it. The doc at the Naval Academy gave me something. The pain went away, so I thought it was healed." I tried a smile.

"Come down here and tell me all about this place." I tugged on her hand, luckily for me she was thinking about other things, so she fell against my side. I felt her relax against me. How long had it been since she'd had a night's sleep?

"Do you understand that you're a wanted man? The Brotherhood of Steel is looking for you."

Just as I was about to turn on my charm a bulky shadow filled the doorway blocking the lights from the street. She stiffened and shot to her feet. Pushing his bulk away from the door with just her small body, he obeyed and allowed her to lead him outside.

"If you have time. There's something I need to discuss with you," he said in a tone that dripped sarcasm and authority. How could he do that?

Obviously, the Paladin is back. Imperious bastard. God, they are an arrogant bunch. Then he spun and headed back across the street. I'd seen some big guys, but he was huge. It wasn't just the power armor. That was a man accustomed to being in charge and in control. And I didn't much care for the way he spoke to her.

"What's your name?"

"Mrs. Thomas Flint," she snapped, braided her hair, twisted a band around the end and left.

"Wait."

I managed to pull myself off the couch and stumble to the doorway. Once a beautiful neighborhood, many of the small houses apparently stood the test of time. White picket fences surrounded most of the yards. Behind the garage across the street, I noticed crops growing and people moving around in between the rows. The boys waved to me. They were shoveling manure into a wheelbarrow and carting it to the crops. Smart thinking.

Next door to the house with the power armor the Paladin and Mrs. Thomas Flint stood nose to nose, well not quite. In that armor, he towered a good two feet above her. She didn't seem impressed. Good for her. Their angry words floated across the torn pavement.

"You have duties and responsibilities, soldier."

She shot right back, "I'm perfectly aware of my duties, Paladin. In case you've lost count, I'm managing five settlements and fifty people. You don't need to remind me."

"Impressive. But that does not change the fact of your behavior."

Arrogant, son of a bitch. Where does he get off acting like he owns her?

Obviously, she'd had enough of his authority. I knew how zealous these Brotherhood boys could be. I'll admit how flattering it is to earn the gratitude of a damsel in distress, but she apparently doesn't require saving anymore. Obvious to me, anyway. A fact, this Danse fellow didn't understand, yet. If he were standing in my spot, he would see her body language shouting, step the fuck off, Brother. Not that she would ever use such language.

So while I'm sizing up this woman, I don't even know and making assumptions about her character. Remember, I did catch her crying at that empty crib in the back room. The fact that she's hiding me means she knows who I am, and Danse (what kind of a name is Danse?) would try to arrest me. The sound of a Brahmin's cries distracted me.

"Wolfgang!" He answered my shout with a grin and headed my way. I sank back on the couch. Good old Wolfgang jogged through the door shook my hand and dropped into the chair next to mine.

"Good to see you. You're certainly looking healthier than the last time."

"Yeah, I guess that infection finally caught up with me. Lucky me I fell straight into the arms of that pretty red-head out there."

"Wouldn't get too attached. That Paladin out there has her complete attention."

"Not for long," I say with a flourish of male bullshit. You know how it with guys. I had no worries about old Crazy getting ideas about Mrs. Thomas Flint. The Paladin, I wasn't too sure about.

All thoughts, lecherous and otherwise, fled when the wail of a siren shattered the morning air. We both jumped to our feet and headed for the door. Wolfgang tossed me a laser rifle. Everyone in town seemed to be running toward the north side of town, but a scream from one of the horses turned me toward the old oak tree and the scared horses.

"STRONG SAY, YOU DON'T EAT MY HORSES OR HE WILL EAT YOU!"

What the fuck was that? Strong? There's a Greenskin in this camp and his name is Strong? I skidded to a halt at the nervous horses. The boys were doing their best to keep them contained, while glancing warily at the Mutant. If the horses decided to run there would be very little, we could do to stop them.

Then he looked straight at me. I'm standing maybe twenty feet from a Mutant with a wicked looking, fully tricked out minigun.

"Strong protect the horses. You should not be out here. That metal man will catch you if he can. Strong don't like him much. You go!"

I stood there a full minute trying to understand this environment. A domesticated Mutant, a high-ranking Paladin and a woman whose presence brought out some protective feelings I thought I'd buried long ago. Add four boys trained as efficient killers, a herd of nervous horses and me, weaker than a puppy, standing in the middle of the street waiting for a bus to run him over.

"What are you doing out here!" My angel is trotting over to me and grabbed me by the arm. She's angry I can tell. See? I'm getting to know her real well.

"I sent Danse to the Rocket, but he'll be back. Now, will you please come inside?"

"My apologies Mrs. Thomas Flint." I said and made her a gentlemanly bow, which she ignored completely. "I thought only to protect your little town and the horses.

She steered back inside and shut the front door. After she'd seated herself across from me she stayed silent for a long time. Getting to know this woman amped my desire to get well to plasma fire. When she scrubbed a hand through her hair, I decided to start the conversation we needed to have. The sooner, the better.

"Thanks for taking care of me. I meant it. If I'm causing you a problem with that Paladin, I'll get out of here. But let me ask one question. You're right, the Brotherhood is on my trail, but why are you protecting me?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Haven't decided whether to turn me in or keep my secret? I wanted to ask, but I kept quiet.

Finally, she stopped pacing and tucked her hair behind her ears. Adorable. Then I stopped breathing.

"That power armor you see across the street belongs to me."

I came slowly to my feet. Why reveal herself to me without a weapon? She's wearing a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. She couldn't stop me from running. Why protect me? Shit! I could make it to my horse. All I'm wearing is a t-shirt and jeans. The weapon Wolfgang gave me is almost empty, and I have no fusion ammo. Where is my pack? In the wagon, that's right. I took a step.

"Where are you going?" She asked with a strange look on her face. Like she was confused, or something.

"I'm going to ask you this one more time, Mrs. Thomas Flint. If you're a member of the Brotherhood, then you are violating some serious, and when I say serious I mean deadly, rules by protecting me. So what's going on?"

"Oh, just sit down. I'm not going to turn you in. We got the word that you were traveling this direction about a week ago. Ever since then, especially when we heard about the vertibird, he's watched for you. I've heard all about you and your ten years in D.C."

She sat down on the couch and stared into space.

"Why are you protecting me?" I asked again. I could hardly take a breath just watching her struggle to find words. The only sound I heard was her breathing and how the dim lights shined off her hair. I needed an answer, but I needed to see those blue eyes again.

"Because you came from a vault just like me. You lost family and your home. You were thrown into situations outside your experience. I wanted to talk to you. I need you to help me understand."

While she spoke, she walked toward me, slowly, one step at a time. Time slowed, she raised her head, and there're those blue eyes again.

"I've killed… so many times. I'd never even seen a dead body before. People just trying to survive. Jacob, how do I get this blood off my hands?"


	10. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 10

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 10

Remember: Spoiler Alert

Thanks again readers for all the kinds words and concrit. BTW, less romance novel and more action next time. I promise. And another thank you to the review who gave me the idea for Jake's response to her question.

* * *

I'm swaying on my feet, and she's asking philosophical questions. I had no answer for her and, dammit, she's looking at me as if I do. Hadn't she just said she'd waited for me. How do I answer her? There is no answer. Take drugs? Convince yourself what you're doing is right in the name of surviving another day? This is a violent, kill or be killed, tortured, crucified, or be fucking eaten world. My own little world shattered when I learned my father walked out of my life. An event that triggered that horrific day I was forced to fight my way out of the vault the only home I'd ever known.

Learning to survive outside the vault. Teaching myself how to use weapons. The first time I watched a man die at my hands. Ten years out here brought a thousand horrors, and each one left a scar. Small ones, large ones and some I can't even talk about. She's at four months with a genuine life full of real memories behind her. I only knew that world from the burned out refuse of its cities and what I learned in school. A family and children, in a safe environment. What must that be like? I suddenly felt jealous of those memories.

Then I remembered Little Lamplight and the hollowed out eyes of those lost children and blurted out the first thing that came into my head.

"'We fear violence less than our own feelings. Personal, private, solitary pain is more terrifying than what anyone else can inflict.'"

"Who said that?"

"Some guy named Jim Morrison. I think he was some kind of messiah or a god, or maybe a rock star. The only other quote I remember is Lady Macbeth. I'm sor..."

"Wait! I know it." She held her hands up, staring at them as if they didn't belong to her. "'Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then 'tis time to do it—Hell is murky—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?' Macbeth Act 5, scene 1."

She smiled, obviously proud of herself for remembering the quote. I watched her face change when the smile turned into laughter. Not happy laughing. Lady Macbeth laughing.

 _Fuck._

"Do you think we're the only two people left who learned anything but how to survive in this world?" Her eyes wide and brimming.

Now what was I supposed to do? Everything in me, including big Jake, told me to take advantage of this opportunity by putting my arms around her. And I wanted to because she was about to cry, and I'm thinking how good she would feel against me. Maybe she won't turn me in after all and I'm not just some dangerous Raider freak from the Wasteland, and I can be that be strong hero she needs like the men in those romance novels Matta used to read. And that I have more to offer than that behemoth out there.

I took a step toward her. She reacted immediately by stepping away from me and crossing her arms over her chest. _Yes ma'am, body language loud and clear._ Then I saw the wedding band on the third finger of her left hand.

"You're married," I said. _Idiot._

"Yes," she replied scrubbing at her face.

"To that Paladin?" _That's it, piss her off._

This time, she did laugh and her whole face light up. "Danse? Of course, not! But thank you for making me laugh. Both times. Been awhile."

"You're welcome." She seemed calmer now and that was good. I understood the effect of getting pushed to your own personal edge of sanity too many times. I extended my hand, "Maybe we could start over? I'm Jacob. I grew up in Vault 101. Then things went bad with the Overseer, and I left to find my father. I was eighteen at the time. That was ten years ago. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Thomas Flint."

 _Oh, hell yeah!_ She smiled again. Then her right hand is holding my right hand. The mask of control hasn't slipped completely back into place, but it's not far away. Just before it does, I'm looking directly into those blue eyes and she's squeezing my hand.

"My name is Sarah Flint. Sanctuary Falls, lately of Vault 111."

"Why do I get the feeling you didn't grow up in that vault, Sarah Flint?"

"Because I didn't. Four months ago, I was a housewife, with a handsome husband and an infant son. Make that two hundred years and four months."

She's pushing those words out like it's causing her pain. Like they've rolled around in her head for too damn long, and they probably had. You couldn't talk to that Paladin about this. _And that's why you found her crying._ What had I been through compared to this? She kept talking, and now I wish to be anyplace but here. No, that's not true. Whatever she'd been through she must be an extraordinary woman to have survived this long. I needed to hear her story.

"The bombs started falling. They gathered us up and took us to Vault 111. We thought it was fine. What did we know? They put us in a small chamber and told us to change clothes. My husband was right across from me. I watched them freeze him and our son. I screamed and banged on the glass, but no one would listen. Then it was my turn, and I went to sleep. I-I tried to stay awake by watching Shaun… I tried… he was so cold. I could see him shivering and Tom trying to keep him warm."

I tugged on her hand, and she took that last step into my arms.

"Sarah? This was your house, wasn't it."

She nodded her head, scrubbing her cheek against my shoulder. I'm only just beginning to understand the real depth of her strength when she whispered against my shirt. She isn't finished. There's more. I tightened my hold on her.

"At some point, they woke us up again. I watched them take my son away from Tom. When he tried to fight back, they killed him. They took my son away and put me back to sleep. The next time I woke up, I was alone. That was four months ago."

Was this my second chance? My moment to make up for the deaths of my friends in Megaton? The heavy tread of metal boots echoed off the broken pavement outside. I thought quickly.

"Sarah, I don't know how to wash away that blood. When I do, I'll let you know. I don't know how to bring your family back. But I won't let you take the fall with me, and I won't let you take this on alone. Meet me at the vault when you can. I'll head there and wait for you."

That seemed to make sense to her. She tossed me a bomber jacket, some food and a bag full of fusion ammo. I waited until Danse sounded as if he were right outside the front door and high-tailed it out the side door.

Dogmeat and his twin met me at the bottom of the creek. I started up the other side and pulled up short at the top of the ridge. A mutant stood skylined against the emergings stars. Next to him, two horses and Matthew holding the reins.

"Strong make sure you get away from metal man."

And now I'm about to have a conversation with a creature who symbolized the dangers of Wasteland. Does he know who I am? Does he know I slaughtered hundreds of his brothers in D.C.?

"I can't allow her to come with me. That Paladin is suspicious enough."

"Name is Strong. You can say it. Try. TRY."

"Y-Your name is Strong."

Matthew started laughing at what was no doubt my wide-eyed terror. Strong is grinning. _Grinning._

"Knight Sarah come and go all the time. No one will worry. Sometimes she takes Strong. Strong can carry more than humans. Did you know that?"

"I do now. That's good information, Strong. Uh, thanks for letting me know… about Sarah, too."

"Strong thinks you should call her Knight Sarah. Strong not too sure you can take care of her as good as Strong can. Can you?"

"I promise you, I will take care of her, Strong. I promise."

"Human make a promise. Break promise? Strong eat him. Bye, now. Knight Sarah be here soon, with food and weapons. You wait. Come little human named Matthew, Strong have much to teach you."

They headed back down the path leaving me with the horses. Now I'm alone, and it's very dark. At night, with the lights of Sanctuary illuminating the area the vault seemed like a graveyard. The skeletons told me it was true. I shook the visions of those people screaming as they died in fear and confusion away. I found the trailer and the mechanism. Well, shit. I can't very well take the horses down there. Even if they did fit on the elevator pad, I had no idea what lay below. So it's me and two horses trying hard not to freeze to death.

Luckily I found bedrolls attached to the saddles and rolled one out on the floor of the small trailer. With my weapon ready, the dogs happily curled up on either side of me. All five of us fell asleep to the normal night sounds, of gunfire, wild animal and the wind blowing unhindered across the empty landscape.

 _And when she came to me, I pulled her gently down and held her until she stopped trembling. I was the last person she needed to be afraid of and by morning, she would know it. Know it, in her heart. She tasted… Shit! She hit me! She didn't strike me (Great pun! Handsome, and witty. Right?) as the type to like it rough…_

"Strong warned you."

After making a complete fool out of myself nearly falling out of the trailer with the bedroll wrapped around my legs, I blinked the sun out of my eyes. Sarah wasn't looking at me because she was too busy strapping the bedroll down. Strong is glaring at me with his fist wrapped around the handle of his sledgehammer. When she finished, she tossed me a bundle of something metallic. Turned out, it's armor and nice armor too. Nothing like we had in D.C. While I managed to strap it on over my clothes, she mounted one of the horses like she'd been doing it all her life.

"You know how to ride?" _Someone just go ahead and carve an L on my forehead._

"Of course, I know how to ride," she stated, still not looking at me, with all the uppity class sound of someone who grew up expecting to have a handsome husband, beautiful son and live in Sanctuary Falls. "I started taking lessons when I was six. I suggest you mount up."

So off we went into the morning sun with the two dogs trotting happily ahead of us. I needed to get my mind of that silent women riding slightly ahead of me. I won't notice how straight and tall she sits in the saddle or how the sun glints off the red-gold streaks in her hair… _Shit!_

"What's your dog's name?" Seemed like a good neutral question.

"Dogmeat."

"I meant, what's _your_ dog's name?"

"Dogmeat."

"No, my dog…" Shut up, Jake. Just shut up. And just to show my superior manliness, I kicked my horse to a canter and made it to the top of the ridgeline ahead of her. You know, just to make sure there's nothing dangerous waiting for us on the other side. That's all.


	11. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 11

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 11

* * *

With only the sound of our horse's hooves and the occasional excited barking from the dogs for company, I followed her east. If you weren't in the middle of a blasted land, littered with skeletons, the smell of death and the thick stench of burning refuse, it was a beautiful morning for a ride. I watched the dogs, kept an eye on the landscape and wondered when my new friend might speak to me again. Of course, I'll give her as long as he needs. I'm here for the long haul, and I know it. She saved my life and if nothing else I owed her just for that.

Mrs. Thomas Flint's personal Mr. Handy had joined us about a mile back. He made some excuse about needing fresh air. I forgot, his name is Codsworth. _Codsworth?_ Really? You have to admit that's a funny play on words, or is that a metaphor? Or is it both? Damn, I don't remember. Anyway, I'm certainly not planning to be the one who explains it to her. Maybe she already knows. Maybe it was a private joke between her and her husband. _Her_ husband. Not thinking about him right now.

The robot in question sailed past me and began a conversation with Mrs. Thomas Flint. That woman named Sarah about whom I'm feeling protective. Probably too protective. Oh, hell. Call me a sap, but I don't want ever to hear her cry again. The sound of that robot's ridiculous accent pulled me from my thoughts about how I was going to be her knight in shining armor. Hey, I had the horse and the shining armor.

"Mum? Do we think the Mister would approve of this fellow?" He swiveled glancing back at me with all three eyes rising above his round body. "That MacCready fellow, although handsome, is hardly a threat. Danse? He'd have to remove his armor first, and I don't see that happening. But this one. This one seems a bit more, what's the word, Mum? Robust, perhaps?"

Well, damn. I'm taking that lying down. "Hey! I'm not a threat!"

"Of course, you're not, sir." He dropped back to talk to me with his eyes weaving and blinking while he demonstrated his weapons. I don't doubt he's serious. "How vulgar of me to imply such a thing! Have I shown you the circular saw and flamer attached to my appendages? We come equipped and ready for anything, from baking a pie, kneading bread or burning a Raider to ash. I do so love the reddish glow of their goo pile."

"Alright, Codsworth. I get the picture," I said with my hands in the air. Maybe I should explain how quickly I can break a Mr. Handy down for parts. I'm really good at it. Plenty of practice.

Another hour of silent riding took us to the outskirts of what looked to me like a military outpost. The radio antenna rose above the low hills, and there's smoke from a fire. We stopped about just short of the last turn while she looked around Then I followed her back around a sharp bend in the road. She slid off her horse and tied him firmly to a tree limb. I copied her movements, including loading my laser rifle. Without speaking she tossed me a shotgun with a sling full of ammo. Sweet. I love a good shotty.

She ordered Codsworth to stay with the horses and the dogs to follow us.

"Any idea what we're heading into?" I asked.

"Probably just Raiders. No reports of Muteys out here."

"Just Raiders?"

My question earned me a glare and that sound women make when they're annoyed. What do call it? The make it with their tongue stuck to the roof of their mouth with a little puff of air. I don't know. I just followed her quietly through the brush. The smell of a cooking fire reached us at the top of a small rise.

Sarah raised her sniper rifle, "Looks like you'll get a set of power armor out of this."

A sharp bark of her rifle and a puff of smoke let me know the fight was on. I heard her count, one. Okay, let's get this party started. Then to me, she said, "Think you can flank them Vault Boy without blundering into my line of fire?"

"Maybe, you could let me know how many Raiders I'm about to face down there? It'd be the friendly thing to do."

"We are not friends, Jacob. Look alive. I count six Raiders, one in power armor and two females kneeling by the cooking fire. There's an additional structure next to the radio tower, but I can't see inside. Go."

"Yes, ma'am." I crept down the hill with the dogs at my heels. The report of her rifle echoed in the still night. Once, twice and when I rounded the corner ready to aim at what's left there's only the guy in power armor and the two girls. Geez, she head-shot three men, at night.

Okay, I'm admitting it right now. She fucking turns me on.

They're shouting and trying to figure out where the shots are coming from. One of the women comes at me wielding a sledgehammer. I shot her legs out from under her. Deciding it's time to change my location, I sprint across the open yard putting the screeching girl out of her misery as I pass. Shut up, I think and make it happen.

The dogs pulled the remaining girl's legs out from under her, and she's writhing and twisting to escape from their jaws. The guy in the armor is hiding behind the radio tower waiting for his chance. I don't know what he's packing so I stayed hidden behind their guard tower. I don't think he knows my location, so I take careful aim at his head.

Through my scope, I hear Sarah's rifle go off and watch the guy's head explode in a thick gory spray. But he's not dead. I brought my shotgun up and advanced on the staggering Raider. He's shouting and swearing, but he still doesn't know who we are or how many of us are attacking him.

The girl tries one last time to get up. She makes it to her hands and knees before the dogs take a firm grip on her throat and that's the end of her. Under the lights, I can see the horror of what's left of this guy's face. It's a mess. Blinded by the blood and grunting in pain, he fumbles for his weapon. Can't let you do that friend. I aimed point blank at the bloody mess of his head when a combat knife whistled out of the darkness and lodged in this throat.

Mrs. Thomas Flint had just thrown a knife about fifty yards, in the dark and hit her target. I'm in love. Love or lust? I don't know, and I don't care. I just want to be here, with her. Or maybe it was another Raider who missed me and hit his boss?

The business end of a shotgun jabbed me in the kidney. Fuck! There's more. In a rush of adrenaline fueled terror, I managed to swipe my arm down and push the shotgun away before it went off. The slug exploded in the wood next to me in a shower of splinters. The second guy, his eyes crazed with Jet lunged at me with a sword. A sword? I used my shotgun to parry the blow.

I had to put some distance between the Raiders and me. Close quarter fighting with these animals is a ticket to the graveyard. Not the graveyard. More likely the stew pot. Gah! No sense dwelling on that. I took off running toward Sarah, shouting, "Company's coming!"

Behind me, I heard the dogs running, and one of the Raiders cried out when he hit the ground. Come on Sarah! Shoot. I stuck a toe under an old foundation and started to go down. Twisting in the air, I managed to get my shotgun up in time to see the Raider's face widen in surprise when the other Dogmeat grabbed him by the seat of his leathers and yanked him to the ground. The shotgun went off, and my vision turned red with a shower of blood when his head popped off his body.

A short distance away, I heard Codsworth give the all clear. I'm reloading my shotgun when she trotted up next to me.

I nodded toward the knife. "Competitive are we, Mrs. Flint?"

"You were taking too long. Screaming like babies. They needed to quiet down before they called in their friends."

I nodded toward the guy in the armor. "I think that knife is stuck in his spine, need me to pull it out for you?"

"Yeah." Then she's running toward Dogmeat with a Stimpak in her hand. Petting them both she feeds them each a bite of meat. They bark their thanks and head off into the brush.

I yanked the knife and started pulling the armor off the corpse. "So what is this place?" I asked. She isn't even out of breath.

"Outpost Zimonja. We need to get the radio tower running and set up a settlement." She whistled and here comes Codsworth with the horses.

Darkness settled in around us while she worked on the radio tower I got the horses bedded down. The realization that I'm not alone, the sound of someone else in the night fills me with a strange satisfaction. It's warm and I like it and I want to keep it. There's a spot above ground on a wooden structure where I spread out our bedrolls. After ordering the dogs and Codsworth to stay with the horses, I wiped the blood off my face and hands and laid out a meal for us. Purified water, mutfruit, and slices of radstag. Will she object to my sleeping arrangement?

She answered my question when she appeared at the top of the ladder and joined me cross-legged on the bedrolls. With an eye on the slices of radstag, she opened her pack and pulled out a tato and quickly cut it into thick slices.

"What is that?" I asked because I'd never seen the light brown kind of square things she produced from her pack.

"It's bread. Here, I'll show you."

She took the meat from my hands, laid the meat and the tato between the two slices of bread and handed it back to me. What the? Okay, maybe I've heard of bread, but taste it? Never. She bit into her stack of food, and I followed her lead. The combination of flavors was like music to my taste buds. I made the appropriate yummy sounds.

"I remember that first night in your house. I smelled something delicious. Did You make this? How?" I stuffed another bit into my mouth while she took a drink of water.

"We grow razorgrain. I already knew how to make bread. I just played with the recipe I knew until I got something resembling bread. Before, we'd have something to spread on it like mustard or mayonnaise. I haven't figured out how to recreate that yet." Her expression turned sad, "I haven't forgotten that Tom liked butter on his sandwiches. We used to take a picnic to the shoreline when I was pregnant with Shaun."

"Hey there, Mrs. Thomas Flint, you are an amazing woman. You're husband was a lucky guy, and I'm sorry this happened to you."

She set her meal down and took a long drink of water. Against the stars, her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. Staring out at the night, she murmured, "I just want to hold my son again." Her thoughts took her to happier times when she went to stand next to the radio beacon.

While we're on the subject, I have a question for her. "There's something I don't understand. How can your son still be alive?"

"I've been following clues. People who know the name, Shaun. Some even know he came from a vault. People have been helping me, MacCready, Danse, and Nick Valentine."

MacCready? That's a name from the past. I put that aside and placed my hands on her shoulders. With my heart in my throat because I needed her to believe in me, "Tell me, Sarah. Tell me so I can help you find your son."

She'd talked about this enough. I could see it in the set of her shoulders and the way her eyes cleared as if she could shut off her emotions. There would be time tomorrow for her to tell me the rest. I gave her some space.

"I need some sleep." She laid down and didn't speak again.

I lay awake watching the stars, listening to her breathe and wondered how anyone became an expert shot in just four months and how much longer we could evade the Brotherhood and what I would do when they tried to convict her too.


	12. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 12

TITLE: It's A Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 12

 **Spoiler Alert**

* * *

I woke up with the sun stabbing me in the eyes and completely disoriented. A quick who, what, and where reminded me of my current location. Back in D.C., it was always, you were just about to be attacked, or you just finished a fight. Unless sleeping in my little house in Megaton, there wasn't much time for civilized things like sleeping all night or taking time for breakfast. I did enjoy sitting at the bar once in awhile at the Brass Lantern, eating noodles and shooting the bull. Crazy Wolfgang and I spent some time solving the problems of the world over a bottle Scotch. It's definitely morning, and I smell something cooking. Right behind that, the aromatic smell of horse shit also greeted my nose. I can hear Dogmeat and, uh, the other Dogmeat barking and crashing through the brush. The bedroll next to me is empty. And, oh yeah, the beautiful woman sleeping next to me. Hmmm, thinking, thinking...Did I get lucky or had I been a gentleman? I checked in with my best friend, he said I'd been a gentleman. He also called me a damn coward. I told him to shut up.

That didn't stop me from spreading my hand over the empty bedroll next to me. The lingering warmth sent a frisson of need through me that curled my toes. Was I falling for her because I was just that lonely or was she someone I could love, a warm body in the night, and a friend who I could trust to watch my six? I flopped over on my side. Or was she nothing more than a stand-in for Moira, the woman I had loved. Still loved and had no idea how to get over. And how much of that was pure guilt and unresolved emotion. Goddamn, I'm getting philosophical in my old age.

No answers for me this morning, so there's nothing more to do than roll out of bed. After a quick pee, I slicked my hair back and straightened my clothes. Ten years and I still wasn't accustomed to the lack of clean clothes and daily bathing. The Vault issued the resitdents a clean vault suit, underwear and towel every day. I wondered how Sarah fared with our general lack of hygiene in the wasteland. Apparently just fine because there she was next to the fire, looking as if she just stepped out of a vault. Her red hair glittered in the morning sun and her face was clean. She sat by the fire cooking. I watched her flip four round cakes of something that smelled delicious. What is that?

"Hungry?"

 _God yes!_ Shut up! _Look at that ass, the curve of her hips. I bet her hands are strong and those lips…_ Shut up! Make that philosophical and horny. I reached down to adjust myself just in time for her to give me the plate of food. Shit.

"It smells good, but what is it?" Taking the plate from her to cover my childish behavior. She politely pretended not to notice.

"I used razorgrain, chopped brahmin, corn meal, some fat and tatos to make a pancake. I think they're called Johnny Cakes in some parts of the country."

Somehow she found two chairs for us to sit by the fire. The first bit of hot food and I'm ready to propose to her. This was so good. _Idiot, she's married and still wears her wedding ring._ My father never removed his ring. My father never forgot my mother, never stopped loving her. Know what? This is the same kind of woman. The kind who makes you think of family and home. The kind who makes you want to slay dragons and make babies with her.

"I may have said this before, Sarah. You are a remarkable woman."

"Nonsense, just because I know how to cook…"

"And wear power armor, and you're a general in the Minutemen. A Knight in BOS. You're saving the Commonwealth by building settlements and making sure they get along and share resources. Every Mutey and Ghoul from here to the D.C. runs at the mention of your name. The Raiders burn an effigy of you..."

We were both laughing by the time she tossed her last bite of food at me to get me to stop. Then her face shuttered, and I thought no, please smile again.

"You forgot the Gunners."

"A nasty bunch?"

"Very nasty. Unlike the Raiders, the Gunners don't seem to wear armor. They're in suits or regular clothes. Don't underestimate them. Ever."

"I won't. I heard of a gang out west that wears nothing but fancy blue clothes. Sweaters and slacks and the like. Deadly, I heard. But thanks for letting me know." I felt touched that she'd thought enough of me to let me know. Anyway, I took the bowls from her and rinsed them out. I saddled our horses and whistled for the dogs. In a few minutes, she emerged from the edge of camp, looking like she just stepped out of the shower. She checked the radio signal and headed toward me and the animals. Sadly, her guard was back up when she took the reins from my hands.

"Sarah, you've been on edge, or suspicious or whatever you want to call it since we left Sanctuary. If you're worried about Danse, so am I. We need to discuss what will happen if he catches up with us."

"It's nothing. Let's get on the road."

We needed to talk about this now. My instincts cycled into high gear. "Wait."

But her arms slipped from my grasp and her eyes locked onto something far away. She dropped the reins and began to back away. The woods around us went very still. In the distance, I heard a vertibird. Nothing to worry about there. I'd grown accustomed to the constant noise of their engines. Damned if I could figure out why every single time they started a fight, someone shot them out of the sky. She won't respond to me and she's still backing away. No, no, no, and damn aren't I a sap. I realized the dogs are quiet and the horses stamp restlessly. I cannot wrap my head around the fact, that she is about to betray me.

"Sarah, don't do this. I've been honest with you."

"We thought it best to get you away from Sanctuary."

"We?" I nearly shrieked. Ah, fuck. I am so fucked. Suddenly the sky wasn't so blue anymore and breakfast boiled in my gut. Had they killed the dogs to keep them quiet? Sarah must be in deep with the Brotherhood. We had something between us, didn't we. Maybe I could get her to hear me. I reached her side and slid my arms around her waist.

"Sarah, you can't blindly follow them. Sometimes their acts are noble, but they aren't always right. I raised her chin and found nothing. Her eyes were dry and she was still as a statue in my arms.

"That's enough, Knight Jacob. Remove your hands from Knight Sarah and away with your hands in the air."

The voice booming out of the trees could only be Danse and how many others? I could try to get away on one of the horses, but they'd shoot him out from under me. And damn them had they killed the dogs? My weapons! My weapons lay on the chair where I'd left them to wash the breakfast dishes. Our little domestic moment that I enjoyed so much, just a trick to get me to let my guard down. Sneering at me one of the other Knights retrieved them.

"Knight Sarah, please move the animals."

When she came nearer to me, I tried to get her to hear me. She made me breakfast for fuck sake. Confided in me and slept beside me. Didn't that mean anything? "Sarah, don't do this. It isn't necessary."

But she's gone from me. I can tell by the blank look on her beautiful face. She doesn't seem so pretty anymore. A set of power armor appeared and she calmly stepped into it. The sound of the clamps like knives carving me up, spilling guilt and confusion into the dirt at my feet. How could I have been so wrong about her? She'd nursed me. Let me see her vulnerability. Danse's voice interrupted my thoughts and answered my questions as if his were the only answers.

"Unlike you, Knight Sarah follows orders. Unlike you, she's adapted herself to becoming a faithful member of the Brotherhood."

"Fuck you, Danse!" I snarled at him feeling every bit as angry as a Mutant Hound. "And fuck everything you stand for."

Another Knight stepped up behind me and twisted my arms behind my back, and quick-marched me into the vertibird landing a few yards away.

Just before they pushed me inside, I looked for Sarah. She stood silent and hidden behind the armor watching us with the reins idle and slack in her hands. I could never forgive her for this betrayal. I cursed my blind trust, my stupidity at putting my faith in a woman. Sanctuary. Content people were moving around, working, talking and sharing meals. Was all that an illusion too? A BOS work camp? I could easily imagine them forcing the farmers into sharing their harvest.

The vertibird sped into the morning sun. I thought of the boys, the horses and how many mistakes I'd made since leaving D.C. But that was over now. I filed the guilt and Sarah's betrayal away and steeled myself for what was to come.

No one spoke until the vertibird landed at one of the pads. This airship was magnificent. How many years and how many resources had it taken to build this thing? Danse had called it the Prydwen. Prydwen, I knew that word. It's the name of something historical. I searched my memory and found the title of an ancient poem, _The Spoils of Annwfn_. Amazing what you can remember when your life is about to end. Prydwen was the name of King Arthur's ship. The later tales of King Arthur claimed Pridwen was the name of King Arthur's shield. I have to admit that I don't understand the metaphor. The BOS is a militant group, completely blinded by their desire to control everything and everyone around them. The tales of King Arthur were always about honor — I remembered what the boys called it — not just honor, but honor, courage, and commitment.

With Danse in the lead, two Knights hustled me through a hatchway and down some stairs, I mean ladder and back outside to a small deck. Standing in the center was an aged man, his face so worn with scars and lines, I couldn't be sure of his age. If this was who I thought it was, then this man was only twenty years old.

Behind the eyes, inside the scarred, lined face of a man who has seen too much of the world was the young boy of ten I met at the Citadel.

"Arthur?" That bit of disrespect earned me an immediate shot of pain that brought me to my toes when they twisted my arms higher against my back. With a nod from him, they eased up the pressure.

"Knight Jacob, it is good to see you again. The Brotherhood hears much of your exploits."

Outside, rain began to fall and sealing us in a private chamber of glittering silver sheets. A real terror began at the base of my spine. Elder Maxson bent his head as if listening.

"I hear the thunder, Captain. Where there's thunder there's lightning, is that not so? Take what evasive maneuvers you see fit. Maxson out."

Why worry about the storm? I looked up at the giant balloon above my head. Oh course! They'd used Hydrogen to fill the balloon. Hydrogen was flammable. Very flammable. I filled that knowledge away. With power armor, I might survive the drop into the bay. Without it, I was dead either way. I had no illusions I would ever be allowed to leave this ship. But why? They could have simply killed me, or staked me to the ground for some critter to find. What is my purpose here? What is my fate?

"Knight Jacob? I am speaking to you."

Best to play along. "And I am listening, Elder Maxson."

That seemed to satisfy him, and he began pacing. "You may recall that I am the last of the Maxson line.

"Yes, Elder Maxson. I remember."

"Paladin Danse reports you court Sarah Flint, the one known as the Sole Survivor."

Court? What does that even mean? Court...Oh, shit. Am I his rival? There's just no end to the trouble it get into. Am I right? I glanced over my shoulder, "Just between you and me Arthur, I think Paladin Danse has his own ideas about courting Sarah Flint."

That got my hoped for effect when Maxon's eyes narrowed. Whatever suspicion I planted faded quickly. Danse hadn't even bothered to respond. "Paladin Danse is a loyal soldier."

"And she's a very pretty girl. Nothing like the used up withered things we typically see in the wasteland. Isn't that right, Danse? She's smart, accomplished, good in a fight and she can cook. Special enough to tempt even you out of that armor?"

That ripped it. Snorting like a Brahma Bull, Danse started toward me his metal clad fists clenched.

"Hold!"

My head swiveled back to Maxson in time for him to hit me. The blow didn't knock me down, but I tasted blood in my mouth.

"Fuck you." Hold your temper, Jake. I took my advice, but I spit the blood on the deck between his feet.

"She is all those things." Maxson continued smoothly as if nothing happened. "Which is why she will bear my children and continue the Maxson line so the Brotherhood may continue."

And that's when I see it. For a moment, while he stares into the driving rain. I remember the intense little boy with the same light flight flickering from eyes, but it is no longer sane.

Behind me, I hear Danse shuffle. "Elder Maxson, you must save your strength. I will volunteer…"

"Shut your mouth! Leave us. Knight Jacob and I must now speak, man to man. Something I'm afraid you know nothing about."

Now there's only the two of us. I could kill him now. Toss him over the side and fuck the consequences. No ten-year-old boy should quote the BOS codex as if it were passages from some holy book. But he had. Deadly serious, he had quoted them to me. And now the dedication, the years of dogma and propaganda had driven him out of his mind. No wonder he looked so aged. Seconds remained for me to make a decision. I would take us both over the side. I love that coat he's wearing. Oh, well. Can't be helped.

I felt a hand on my arm, "Do not try anything so foolish, Knight. I am well protected here. Besides," he gave me a fatherly smile that chilled my bones. "You have a role to play here. If I am unable to father a child on her, you will have the honor." Then he grinned, his cheeks hollow and dark, like a death head.

"Paladin Danse…" I began, with no idea of what I was about to say.

Maxson waved his hand. "He is of no consequence. He's a synth, or haven't you figured that out yet? Now, we have much to discuss, Knight Jacob."


	13. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 13

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 13

AN: Apologies for that last chapter. For those of you returning for a new chapter, I did some much-needed rewriting on Chapter 12. Thanks again for all your responses and reviews. I didn't think of Maxson using Sarah as his personal broodmare until I opened You Tube to review the sound of Maxson's voice. When the young Maxson makes the comment about being the last of his line, the lightbulb clicked on. I think of him, in the same way I think of Ulfric Stormcloak, teetering on the edge of good and evil and always on the brink of mania. So much fun to write.

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"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason to madness." Friedrich Nietzche

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Come along, Knight Jacob. I remember your fondness for Scotch." Maxson opened a hatch and indicated that I proceed him.

So polite. Yeah, polite like a Mutey who always asks 'who's there?' before he charges. Following his directions seemed like a good idea, so I went along. A few steps more and we entered a large room. Larger than you might expect to find on a warship. I glanced behind me toward the sound of people talking, working, machinery, and the unmistakable smell of food. I wanted to explore. Maybe he'd give me a tour? You know, if I asked politely? The hatch closed behind us and we entered the spacious room, with paneled walls and paintings of naval scenes on the walls. No sign of the usual junk in here. Everything looked new and comfortable. A large bed—a shiver slithered down my spine—and a leather sofa. A large shiny desk stood next to what appeared to be a fully functional bathroom. I stopped to take a peek inside. A flushable toilet. Dang.

"I see you've noticed my bathroom, Jacob. Care to indulge?" I'll order a small lunch for us while you bathe and change. There's a uniform hanging on the back of the door. A Knight of your reputation should always be in uniform. Please, be my guest."

Call me whatever you want, but I'm not turning this down. I shut the door firmly behind me and indulged myself. A real toilet and a shower with hot water, soap, and clean towels. No, I didn't indulge in _that_ activity. What a dirty mind you have! I'm a guest here. The guest of a megalomaniac. So many interesting folks out here in the wasteland.

I spread my palms on the shower wall and let the hot water beat down on my head and shoulders. If I needed an outlet for my churning gut or unspent emotions I refused to use it. Not that way. I let my anger and disappointment swirl down the drain. There would be time for that later and I needed my wits sharp and ready for anything. Once my head cleared I dried off and dressed. It did feel good to be clean and my BOS uniform fit perfectly. And isn't this step one in indoctrinating someone?

 _Snap out of it, Jake._

I joined Maxson at a small table set with clean dishes and fresh food. He served me himself from serving plates loaded with Braham steaks and baked tatos stuffed with two things I'd never tasted before, cheese and butter. I'd heard of cheese and butter, but that's as far as it went. One bite and I'm hooked. Stage two of indoctrination, right? Maxson didn't eat, simply sipped his scotch and watched me. Might as well jump in with both feet.

"Elder Maxson, thank you for your hospitality."

He waved the comment away and filled my glass. "We have much to discuss. I understand how you came to distrust the Brotherhood and we need not speak of it again. Things are different here in the Commonwealth. You achieved greatness in D.C. and mostly on your own. Here, the Brotherhood has found a home. You shall have all the resources you require to further spread our word."

Interesting use of the word 'home' I thought but didn't comment. He appeared calm and amiable so I decided to try a question.

"Elder Maxson, may I ask you one question?"

"Of course."

"Is Knight Sarah aware Paladin Danse is a synth?"

"A fair question. No, she is not. We just became aware of it ourselves. However, her next mission involves putting the filthy thing down. I believe it will be a fair test of her resolve. Don't you think so?"

No arguing with that, so I had no reservations about agreeing. The rest of my response I swallowed with a gulp of Scotch. I hadn't been around those two very long and I could tell they were at least friends. She needed someone to rely on, someone who could show her how to survive in this new world. Strong, resolute and fearless, Paladin Danse was a good mentor for her. Hatred of synths hung in the air around here. Was that just more BOS dogma or a real truth? Her next order would be to end his life. How would she feel about that? Failure to follow that order would get her killed. Things are indeed different here in the Commons.

"In her grief, she will turn to me and later, when she is ready… when she sees the wisdom of my decision, she will bear my children."

 _Not if I have to kill you myself._ My skin crawled over my bones and the scotch tasted like irradiated water. By all that I hold dear, I swear this madman will never touch her. Then he continued as if we're discussing the amount of caps a rare bottle of Scotch would fetch.

"And that's where you come in. Due to radiation exposure and the malnutrition of my early childhood, the doctors have reason to believe I may be sterile. That is not what I wish for, of course. But one cannot always expect to have their wishes granted. Though, she will make an elegant hostess. Don't you agree?"

My fingers white-knuckled around my glass and I managed, "And this is where I come in?"

"You are a rare breed, as is she. You're not a product of hundreds of years of mutation and exposure. You're strong and resilient. You were vaccinated against the old infectious diseases, as was our dear Sarah. Both of you will pass those immunities on to your children. My father's heritage will live on, as will the Brotherhood of Steel."

"And if I refuse?"

"If you refuse?" Maxson studied his glass. "I will force you to watch while several of my fittest soldiers rape her. Perhaps it won't be rape. She might enjoy it. After she gives birth a few times, while you rot in a cell, I'll have you both thrown off the side of this ship. Have you ever heard the phrase keel-haul, Knight Jacob?"

"I have." Of course, I'd heard of it. The lash scars on my back twitched.

"Lashed to the keel of the Prydwen will prove a rather uncomfortable experience. It's quite frigid at altitude. I don't recommend it."

"May I see her, Elder Maxson?" Might as well ask another question. Putting one more bite of this food in my mouth will reverse the process rather spectacularly all over Maxson's fancy table.

"A grand idea. I wanted to take you on a tour of my ship, and we'll make a point of stopping by the armory. I'm sure she's there. Our dear Sarah keeps her armor in top shape."

We found our dear Sarah in the armory with her back to the hatch speaking to Paladin Danse. They quickly drew apart as we approached. Danse pinned me with his thousand yard stare while Sarah kept her eyes averted and made a show of working on her power armor. I had to reach her.

"Sarah, how are the dogs?" A good neutral question. Her head swiveled toward me.

"They're fine. I sent them back to Sanctuary." Her eyes caught mine, and she shook her head. A small movement and if I hadn't been looking right at her I'd have missed it. Then it was over, and she went back to cleaning her armor.

I got the message, but if I could just get her to talk to me. "Nice power armor."

She looked up again and regarded me with blank eyes, "This isn't mine, it's yours."

"Mine?" I blurted stupidly.

She pointed across the bay, "Mine is over there. Here, why don't you try this on?"

I hesitated until Elder Maxson spoke up. "Yes, do try it on, Jacob. Knight Sarah worked very hard to update it for you. You should have taken better care of it, but that's a discussion for another day." He smiled indulgently and pointed at the armor.

Okay, okay. I climbed in and tried not to flinch when it locked closed behind me. When my HUD came up, I noticed something flashing. A message?

 _MacCready. Goodneighbor. Do not hesitate. Do not worry about me or us._

Adrenaline surged through me, lighting my nerves and setting my heart throbbing in inside my rib cage. I had to suck in a breath just to focus on Maxson's words.

"Very good, Knight Jacob. And now you're ready for a mission."

"A mission, sir?"

Maxson clapped his hands, "Yes. I need you to infiltrate a town known as Goodneighbor. We suspect they harbor synths there. I need to know numbers and what we're up against. Apparently, they have a ghoul for a mayor. Imagine that! I advise against wearing your power armor inside, though. Here's a bag of caps in case you need to bribe anyone for information. Off you go!"

Turns out the Prydwen had maneuvered through the storm and sat just above the financial district. In minutes, I was on the ground outside Goodneighbor. I stashed by armor and uniform in a crate and pulled on a worn pair of road leathers, and a set of light metal armor. I strapped my weapons on my back and shoved a combat knife in my belt.

No one stopped me from entering. What a strange place. The sky was visible, but the town was dark, lit only by the occasional dimly lit sign. Strange, like it was turned protectively in on itself. I also it was well fortified. A couple of guards tossed me a warning glare while I made my way to a couple of storefronts. My experience taught me the best place to get information is a store or bar. The first shop boasted the name, Kill or Be Killed. So I just had to check that out first. Then I nearly lost my shit when an assaultron greeted me at the counter. A female assaultron. Yes, of course, they all look feminine, but this one is talking to me.

"Hey, baby. How's it hanging?"

"You're an assaultron!" I blurted with a heavy dose of my usual wit and charm.

"Ooh, the new boy is handsome _and_ smart."

"Well, you surprised me, that's all. What's your name?

"I'm a KL-E-0. You may call me Kleo. So what can I do for you, baby? Need to kill, maim or just watch someone bleed out real slow?"

"I'm looking for a man named MacCready."

"Well, handsome. I think you'll have to show me some caps for that kind of information."

Turned out, she had a good supply of shotgun ammo and I purchased a new sniper rifle, too. Thank you Uncle Maxson. That lit her up and she finally told me I could find MacCready in a bar known as The Third Rail. The bar wasn't difficult to locate. Walking down into the gloomy bowels of an old subway station was claustrophobic. I kept walking while my nose cataloged the smells of ghouls, dead bodies, human urine, and excrement. I'm going back to the Prydwen. Have you ever wondered if Ghouls shit? It doesn't matter because that's exactly what they smell like. I rounded the last corner and found the bar. Busy place. Rather than scanning the place and looking even more out of place I slid into a bar stool and ordered a whiskey.

Now there's eyes crawling on my back and it's difficult not to flinch. Hey, I'm not here to make trouble. The bartender seemed friendly enough, so we talked awhile and he finally asked me my name. It wasn't five minutes after I said my name and a guy in a worn trench coat and one of those Marine uniform caps joining me at the bar. He's got ammo strapped just about everywhere, even three in his hate. And that's when it hit me. Little Lamplight. Those are the eyes of that kid I met in that cave. I tipped my hat.

"Mayor MacCready. Good to see you again."

That got a smile out of him and I noticed the rotten teeth. Why didn't he get those taken care of? We shook hands like old friends and I bought him a drink. We talked about the old days, his dead wife and how Sarah had helped him find the cure for his son's illness. His eyes glittered when he talked about Sarah. I guess I'm not the only one falling for her.

Finally, when the bar had mostly emptied out, MacCready turned serious. "We've got work to do, Jake. Are you ready?"


	14. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 14

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 14

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"I am not a Virginian, I am an American" —Patrick Henry, from Quotes By and About First Continental Congress

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In the silence of the darkened bar we regarded each other across the space of two bar stools. I must admit, curiosity overrode my usual caution. I tipped my glass to MacCready, "If it involves taking Maxson down, you have my full attention. Wait. Before you start. What is this freaking paranoia about synths?"

MacCready shook his head. I saw just a little of that boy I met ten years ago. The memories of that first conversation surfaced and made me laugh. He was quick to catch me at it.

"Sorry, I just remembered when we met. You said if I started any bullshit I was out on my own and I replied, 'If you got the adult-size stones to stop me.' Do you remember that?"

A smile lit up his face and he replied quoting himself, "'Just give it a shot, Mungo. You'll see plenty of my adult sized stones when I'm pissing on your grave.' Damn, Jake. I guess I'm a Mungo now."

Our laughter turned heads, but we didn't stop. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to know both us were still alive. That the tough little guy I met in Little Lamplight had survived in spite of the odds against him. MacCready refilled our glasses. His face went very still and he turned clouded eyes to mind.

"It's Maxson. The existence of these synths and The Institute gave him a new crusade. A new flag to rally the troops. And, the fact The Institute is so mysterious provided Maxson a new boogeyman."

"R.J." I replied using his initials and the name he preferred. "No one but Maxson and the BOS seem to care one way or another about the presence of synths. Sarah told me the settlements are full of all kinds and no one seems to blink an eye at Strong."

"Yeah, all true. But Sarah and I have both seen the synths sent to replace humans. As long as people believe that could happen to them or their families the fears won't rest."

"We don't know why they replace humans?"

"No one does. Sarah discovered a way into the Institute though. You know she's looking for her son. The trail of evidence leads to The Institute's front door."

"But no one knows where the front door is located, right?"

"She thinks she has all the evidence she needs. I went into the Glowing Sea with her searching for clues. Fuck… I mean. Sorry. Never again. Took my gums two weeks to stop bleeding."

"What's this? Mayor MacCready watching his language?"

"Yeah, well. It's Sarah's influence. Something about her makes you want to be a better person. You might have noticed?"

"It'd be difficult not to. She's amazing, isn't she?" I watched his face and I swear he blushed.

"You'll have to get in line, Jake."

"Yeah, I noticed that too. Well, this might be a good time to let you in on the latest. I just came from the Prydwen where Elder Maxson let me know he plans to use all of Sarah's charms to make babies. BOS babies. Superior offspring to keep his line and the BOS alive for generations to come."

"God-fucking-damn, you aren't kidding are you?"

"That'd be a hell of a thing to make up, R. J. Look, I know you're gonna wonder why I left her up there with him. Danse is with her and she's the one who told me to meet you here. So what's the next step? I'm ready to kick some ass. Preferable before Maxson starts sighting those weapons I saw on that ship of his."

MacCready gave me a once over as if deciding whether he could really trust me. "Alright. It's time. Let's go."

I followed him into the street and down an alley. We emerged onto a street lined with doors labeled Warehouse. Every one of them was obviously locked up tight. I kept count and at the fifth door, MacCready stopped, glanced up and down the street and used a key to open the door. A long dark hallway greeted us.

"This way."

Well, I didn't have much choice did I? With my trusty shotty in my hands I followed him.

"You won't need that," he said indicating the weapon and pointing up a set of stairs.

One set of stairs turned into three flights and finally we stopped on a wide landing. I could hardly see my hand in front of my face when R.J. unlocked another door.

Fuck! There's a Mister Handy whirling to greet us. Don't need a weapon? Like hell!. I knelt quickly on the dirty floor to make myself a smaller target and improve my aim. These damn Mister Handy's could rip you a new one if you weren't quick about taking them down. Instead of a stream of fire or a spinning blade it started talking.

"Mister Jacob! How lovely of you to join us. Allow me to greet you properly. I'm Codsworth. You remember? From Sanctuary? Come right in, sir. Everyone is waiting."

"Everyone?" I'm ready to wipe the smirk off R.J.'s face with my shotgun, when he gallantly offered me his hand to help me up.

"Come on, Mungo. The party won't start without us."

Another door opened into a shadowed room filled with voices. Some of them familiar, but how was that possible? My eyes adjusted quickly as the talking quieted. Other than feeling like the biggest fool this side of the Mississippi I just stared.

Around a large table was Matthew, looking a lot more like a composed young man than an orphaned boy. Paladin Danse, out of his power armor sat next to him watching me quietly. I'm guessing he's wondering if I'll blow his head off now or at the first break. Strong stood in the corner studying his fingernails, and rocking back and forth on his feet.

A man dressed in one of those Minutemen costumes and a fancy hat came towards me with his hand out. "Welcome. I'm Preston Garvey. Please, sit down. We have much to discuss. You've done so much for the Minutemen by providing us with those horses. We can never thank you enough."

A ghoul wearing a cocked hat and a red frock coat waved me over to a chair. "Join us, Knight Jacob. I'm John Hancock, the mayor of Goodneighbor. Welcome to our city. You made quite an impression with Kleo."

I dropped into the chair with a thump. Well, hell yeah. I'm just as shocked as you are. Obviously, I'm in the dark and I don't like being in the dark. So I'm gonna sit here, behave and find my way out of the dark as soon as fucking possible. Just as I opened my mouth to ask why Sarah isn't here John Hancock opened the meeting.

"Members of the Freedom Trail, please respond. The delegate from Philadelphia, Knight Adam."

My head swiveled and there in shadows sitting in the far corner was a man dressed in BOS fatigues.

"Present." The stranger responded nodding my direction.

"The delegate from the Capital Wasteland, Knight Jakob?"

And now, just like that, I'm a delegate. I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Jake, all you have to do is say here. Close your jaw and try it." It was Wolfgang.

"Uh, here?"

"The delegate from the Independent Caravanners Association?" Wolfgang squeezed my shoulder again. "Here! My friend is dazzled, I'm afraid. Perhaps we should explain one or two things to him."

The ghoul shrugged his shoulders. "You're right, but make it quick, Wolfgang."

Wolfgang dropped into the chair next to mine. "We used to talk about how to get people talking to each other. How to stop the fighting between the Raiders and everyone else. How the BOS wasn't always on the side of the people. People trying to create a life off the land left to them by the wars."

All true. How many nights had we spent talking about that very thing? More than I could count. Was this an genuine attempt to make it happen? To throw off the yoke of the BOS and let the people decide for themselves? I tried to rise out of my chair only to find my knees too soft to hold me up.

Something very much like butterflies burst in my stomach. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the possibilities. Before I could join in, before I listen to another word I needed to hear from two people.

"Paladin Danse. If this is about equality and everyone having a say. Then I need you to tell me something. Right now."

He looked like a man grieving for something and maybe he was. How long had he known he was a synth? That's a hell of a thing to hide in this world. And how many synths had I met in D.C. and never known it?

"What Maxson told you is true, Knight Jacob. I have no reason to hide the fact that I am a synth from this group. Sarah is perfectly safe on the Prydwen. There are others there who will watch out for her and she knows who they are."

His words sucked the air out of the room. The connections, the secrets and their very fucking survival depended on trust, and their word of honor to protect each other.

"Honor, courage and commitment, right Matthew?"

"The delegate from The Navy agrees with you, sir."

"If that's so, young man. Then you might have told me sooner. Like just short of that flogging?"

"We tried, sir. We did. Your arrival helped us push our plans forward and escape. We'd heard rumors. Suddenly there you were. I am sorry. We couldn't have done it without your help, sir."

While he'd been talking he walked toward me, until he's standing right in front of me. This is all hitting me like the rocket from a Fat Man and I'm completely without words. So I did the next best thing and hugged the little brat. Goddamn kids. The boys, MacCready and the orphans in Little Lamplight. Braver than any of the adults around them.

"Strong thinks we need to start this meeting. No more hugging. Make plans. Make decisions. Strong bored. Strong ready to go."

Good old Strong always gets to the point. I let Mathew pull away and it would be a close call as to which one of us had the shinier eyes. Just to remind him who's boss I ruffled his hair.

 _Goddamn kids._

I cleared my throat and sat down. "The delegate from the Capital Wastelands seconds the motion."

The roll call continued until everyone spoke. Then Hancock granted the floor to Paladin Danse. A big man, even without his power armor. Everyone watched him walk to the head of the table. He had charisma too and I wondered if that was part of being a synth, like something they'd programed into him?

"I've had little success contacting other synths. Although, Knight Sarah and I plan to infiltrate the North Church soon. So far we have only rumors of what we might find down there."

I watched Danse take a deep breath as if he were holding back emotions. Synth or no synth this wouldn't be easy news to share with anyone. I saw sympathetic eyes around the table. Without more information he's really only representing himself. But it's a start, isn't it?

"It was brought to my attention that Elder Maxson discovered my true identity. According to the intel Knight Sarah intercepted, they used my DNA to prove I am a synth. Maxson...will order Knight Sarah to assassinate me to prove her loyalty."

A chorus of protests echoed in the room. I was on my feet before I knew I was moving.

"What do you need me to do?" I shouted over their angry voices. "If me leaving D.C. helped you move forward, then let me be the one who takes us forward another step."

The room went quiet. Yeah, just as if they were waiting for me to step up. I'd seen what most of them hadn't. I'd seen the crazed look in Maxson's eyes and the closed-minded assurance that what he was doing was absolutely correct. And I knew that whatever Maxon's fate, many of his followers were just as blinded to other possibilities as their leader. This would not be an easy fight. We had to insure—somehow—that we weren't deposing one tyrant for another tyrant.

And there was still The Institute to face. I caught Danse watching me from across the table. I mustered the friendliest smile I could for him. Then John Hancock rapped his gavel on the table and called us back to order.

I couldn't wait to discuss all this with Sarah.


	15. it's a Long, Long Road Chapter 15

TITLE: It's a Long, Long road

CHAPTER 15

 **AN: The character of Phade the Courier belongs exclusively to Dragonsoul1 and included in my story with their kind permission.**

* * *

"Guard with jealous attention the public liberty. Suspect everyone who approaches that jewel. Unfortunately, nothing will preserve it but downright force. Whenever you give up that force, you are inevitably ruined." —Patrick Henry, speech in the Virginia Ratifying Convention, June 5, 1778

* * *

The morning sun cast determined rays into the dark streets of Goodneighbor. We shook hands and left the warehouse. Each of us headed a different direction and continued our separate ways. With plans set in motion and each of us had our part to play. My part began at midnight in four days. I said goodbyes to R.J. and Matthew and headed toward Sanctuary with Codsworth at my side and chattering all the way.

My head was so full of the mission and the promises we'd made to each other the time passed very quickly. For the first time in my life, I'm a part of something important. Something real and not just another method of survival. It felt damn good. And, how about that Matthew? There was more to that story and someday very soon he's gonna explain it to me. We did stop at a settlement for one night and got back on the road before dawn. I hadn't noticed the nice weather or the clear roads until I tuned into Codsworth's one-sided conversation just outside of Concord. Okay, so I did notice the occasional provisioner or caravan. Truthfully, I was intent on getting to Sarah. I'd already decided to apologize for doubting her.

"Uh, sir. This is one of Mrs. Flint's settlements." He'd stopped in front of one of those Red Rocket gas stations you see all over the landscape. I didn't see any settlers, lights were off, and the doors closed.

"As you'll notice, sir. The Missus keeps the place for herself as a kind of get-away. If you wish to freshen up and get some rest this is the ideal location."

I was more than ready to get out of this armor. I waived to Codsworth as he continued down the road to Sanctuary. Didn't take me long to find the lights and the armor rack. She had a nice setup in here. I could see why she might enjoy this as a retreat. With the big door down it was quiet and cool. The armor creaked open, and I stepped out of. Yuck. Three days of sweating inside this toaster and I smell like something the ghoul dragged in. I stripped down and started scrubbing. I even shaved. I am a sap, aren't I. Make that a pathetic sap. Just as I was pulling on a fresh set of clothes I heard the big door go up. In just a pair of pants and bare feet I picked up my weapon and peered around the corner.

Another Knight dressed in power armor entered the bay. They obviously weren't lost. Was this Sarah?" When the armor opened, I saw the flash of red hair under a helmet. The helmet clanged to the floor when she impatiently knocked it away. Then her hand missed the handle, and she began to fall out of the armor. I caught her just as she was about to land on her hands and knees.

"Let me go. I'm fine." Sarah twisted her head around, and that's when I saw the pale cheeks and a large purple bruise on her forearm. I ignored her protests and carried her straight into that small room I noticed behind the cash register. She stopped struggling when I laid her down carefully on the small bed. As soon as I let go, she sat up and tried to swing her legs off the mattress. Her eyes weren't focused, and the smudges under her eyes were like bruises.

"You're not fine. Are you injured?" I asked joining her on the narrow bed mostly to keep her from getting up. I didn't see any blood. Instead, she was soaked with sweat, and her hair lay dirty and lank over her shoulders.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

"I don't remember. I'm fine. Go on to Sanctuary."

She didn't fight me when I pressed her down. I slipped off her boots and the rest of her armor. Then I covered her with a blanket. When I tried to walk away, a slim hand clasped mine.

"Sarah?"

"I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Hey, that was going to be my line." To my complete surprise, she pulled me down next to her. Next thing I knew she's in my arms. I know what you're thinking. You think I'll take advantage of her vulnerability. Shame on you. But God yes, she felt good. All long arms and strong hands. I nearly gasped when you spread her hands over the bare skin of my back.

Are you okay, what's wrong and all that other crap filtered through my mind to say. I knew she wouldn't welcome it. I gently pulled her closer and let her rest her head on my shoulder. Soon she would get cold in these wet clothes. The night was falling fast outside, and so was the temperature. I didn't want to intrude on this moment. I didn't want it to end.

I pressed my cheek to hers. "I'm sorry that I doubted you, Sarah. I didn't understand. I do now."

I felt her head move against my shoulder. With my hand over her cheek, I raised her face to mine.

"You need to sleep, and I'll stay here and make sure you're okay." Her breath came in short puffs over my lips. This was a mistake. I can't look into those blue eyes and hide my desire for her. Then her fingertips brush over my mouth.

"It's okay. It's not like we aren't both thinking about it. Right?"

Shit. One of her hands drifted up my spine, and she's got her fingers wrapped around the back of my neck and pulling me to her.

"You need sleep more than you need my attention." I tucked the blanket around her. See? I can be a gentleman. This is me being a gentleman. I've heard some people accuse me of acting like a predator around women. I don't think that's true. Am I any different than you when I appreciate beauty, whether it's a woman or a sunset or those cherry trees in the Capital? It's not as if I'm stalking anyone.

Wait, I think she wants to try to kiss me again. Wish I had more clothes on.

"Hey, I'm pretty important around here, and most people do what I say."

"Is that right, Ms. Sole Survivor?" Uh, oh. She's sitting up again and sliding her arms around my waist. I'm a fucking saint. Someone should be impressed.

Soggy with sweat and dirt she smells wonderful. When I buried my nose in her neck to inhale her perfume she rewarded me with her nails on my spine.

Then she dipped her head and found my mouth with her lips.

"Sarah, stop." _Don't you dare stop._

"I'm tired, but I can never show it. I have to be strong."

Against her mouth, I murmured, "You are strong, it's not work for you. Come on now. Sleep." But she's not listening to me and a second later we're kissing again. When I tell you how sweet she tastes, it's like the best thing you can think of. Like a real apple or ice cream. When she touched her tongue to mine, I almost pulled her into my lap. And I probably would have if her head hand dropped to my shoulder and her body went limp.

She's sleeping, and I'm… Well, let's just say I'm _not_ sleepy. But Sarah needs me, so I closed my eyes and thought about how lucky I was that she trusted me enough to sleep in my arms. She'll probably be pissed as hell in the morning. Right now, she's all mine, and I'm planning to enjoy every minute of quiet time with this brave and complicated woman.

Tomorrow our lives would change forever. Some of us might die—Hell, I might die—in the effort of putting our plans into action. For now, for these few hours, I could sit make us comfortable. With my back against the wall, she came willingly when I pulled her close and covered us both with the blanket.

She only stirred once when she looked up at me, "You taste good."

I just laughed and pushed her head back down on my shoulder. She's going to kill me in the morning.

Hours or minutes later, something woke me. It's completely dark in the room, and Sarah is still sleeping. But there's movement and the whisper of sound. As if someone was walking in socks. I reached for my shotgun. Odd that I don't feel alarmed, only very curious.

"That won't be necessary," said a feminine voice from the shadows. "You two are so cute. But what do we have here? The famous Lone Wanderer and the Sole Survivor. Wow, can I get your autograph later?

Another feminine voice, "He's pretty. Can I have him?"

"Sure ED-E." The apparition in front of me slowly solidified to a normal looking female dressed in some very interesting armor. ED-E is a robot floating just behind her left shoulder. _Fuck._ And if I'm not mistaken that's a wicked looking anti-material rifle on her shoulder.

I tightened my hold on Sarah, "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, madam."

"Yup, you sure as fuck do."

Sarah raised her head, "Who are you?"

Then she did something even scarier than the armor or her laugh, when she made a curtsy. "I'm Phade the Representative from New Vegas. Sorry I'm late. Hell of a trip across what's left of this country. It's wide open out there west of the Mississiip...Well, ain't you a pretty thing? When you get tired of your boy-toy give me a shout. I'm heading to Sanctuary. See you two in the a.m. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Her laughter followed her out the door. When we were alone, Sarah settled against me.

"Let's go back to sleep, boy-toy and pretend that was just a nightmare."

Good idea and I settled back against the wall. But sleep didn't come again. I kept my eyes on the shadows and watched hed Sarah sleep.


	16. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 16

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 16

 **AN:** The character of Phade the Courier belongs exclusively to Dragonsoul1 and included in my story with their kind permission.

 **AN:** The character of Marcus Thresh, aka Spirit belongs exclusively to The Storybook Tree and included in my story with their kind permission.

 **AN:** My $0.02. When a fanfic author writes about well-known and often beloved characters, for example, the Master Chief, readers often feel a deep ownership of that character. I get that. I clearly stated a chapter or so back that I thought of Maxson the same way I think of Ulfric Stormcloak. Both are interesting characters with a wide range of story possibilities. Either character could be written as a saint, a devil or something in between. My goal here is to write an entertaining story.

Thanks again for all the reads. I know it's often difficult to think up a review. It's equally difficult to write in a vacuum. A little feedback would be wonderful and well received. Without feedback or kudos I can't tell if I'm writing an entertaining story or already off the rails and in the ditch, with Strong shouting at me about what a stupid human I am, after all.

The curtain rises...

* * *

After a good night's sleep, breakfast, and a new fusion core, I stepped out of the Red Rocket station into a sunny morning. I'm ready to face the day. Although, I am a little curious about the events of last night. Not that I'm complaining. It's just that I don't want to…Well, she's just not the average...Dammit, she's special. She also left before I woke up. Admirable stealth skills. How did she get past me when I'd been sleeping with one eye open and my ear to the ground for so many years?

I started out toward Sanctuary when something clattered to the broken pavement. I can only guess it was inside my armor or the pocket of my leathers. So there it lays and I'm in my power armor and bending over becomes an interesting feat of athleticism. Ever tried picking something up with these armored gloves?

But now I'm curious because no matter how hard I try to bend over, I can't really see what's on the ground. So here I am in the middle of the road climbing out of my power armor just to pick up the shiny silver thingy on the ground. Too many years of trash picking. It's in my blood. My father developed Project Purity to provide clean water to thousands of people. His son? His son is a gun slinging, trash picker.

Finally got the damn thing in my hand and flipped the medallion over. It's the Saint Michael necklace. How had I forgotten about this? My heart flipped over and I had to take a breath. Saint Michael, the Arch Angel who defeated Satan. Saint Michael the patron saint of law enforcement and soldiers. Saint Michael, 'the man who is like god' and a 'Great prince who stands up for the children of your people.'

We can all agree that I'm no Saint Michael. I'm not even sure I'm up to the battle ahead. The chain dropped cold and sharp around my neck. I climbed back into my armor and headed toward the bridge that in just a few yards would took me into Sanctuary. And I remembered that I'm no longer alone. There are people just ahead. Good people ready to stand together. It's a nice feeling and I'm not just talking about Sarah.

"Knight Jacob!"

I had just crossed the bridge into Sanctuary when one of the guards hailed me. I threw up my hand.

"They're waiting for you. Mister Garvey said on the double."

I turned right and cut through the houses and the crop fields to find Phade, Garvey and Sarah sitting at a patio table with their heads together. What a contrast between the two women. And maybe I'm biased. But Sarah had it on all of us. Our blasted wastelands hadn't stripped her or aged her skin. Smooth skin and shiny hair the color of sunrise. My eyes shifted to Phade. What color was that anyway. It's scraped back in a braid and the color…? What was that color? Blood?

To be fair, once you got past the hair you noticed the horrific scar on her skull. This woman knew how to survive and her face told the tale. Pretty, but shrewd and when she turned those purple eyes on me I actually took a step back.

If what I knew about her was true, she was actually born into this world. As if to prove my point, without glancing up, Phade calmly pulled her sidearm. I held up my hands. Geez, wasn't that the infamous _Diner Bell_ she's pointing at my head. At this range...shit. I stopped in my tracks.

"You're not afraid of me are you, vault dweller?"

"Uh, good morning?"

"Join us, Knight Jacob. We have little time."

"I'm not the one showing off my guns this fine morning, Preston."

"Sorry. Here," she kicked a chair out from under the metal table. "Sit by me and take a look."

What she gave was a very long list of words with numbers next to them. Ah, a code. Perfect. Matta and I used to make up codes, mostly to drive Butch and the rest of those idiot Tunnel Snakes crazy. The last message I found from her had been in code. She'd stuck it on the handle of a pistol next to the exit of Vault 101. Of course, I found it. She knew I would. Just two words, 'I'm sorry'.

"Hey, pretty boy. Maybe you could pay attention now."

Yeah, I could see how this one could wear a fella out.

"Jake." Sarah slid a small piece of paper under my hands without meeting my eyes. Try to decipher this. You'll see how it works."

0000 1234 2200 636 0200 6543X 353 415 908 818 000

While I puzzled out the message, Garvey joined us at the table. I guess they're waiting for me to catch up with the class. Let's see, 636 is _Thankful_ and 353 is _Last_. When I figured out 415 a goofy grin spread across my face and I may have blushed. Sarah wrote a coded note just for me. I had just made out the word _Night_ when gunfire sounded in the distance, the sound of a bullet whistled between us knocking Garvey's hat off his head.

Across the driveway, Mama Murphy leaps out of her chair and began shouting they're coming! They're coming!

An empty bottle of Nuka Cola on the table shattered throwing shards in the air like shrapnel.

Phade threw an arm around Sarah and dragged them both the ground. _Hey, hands off._ The sound of weapons fire seemed to come from every direction. I could hear the settlers calling to each other to take position inside the houses.

Garvey grabbed my arm and signaled toward Sarah and her power armor. We dropped to a knee and provided cover fire for her while she crawled toward the driveway. With a respectable amount of butterflies screaming in my stomach—And why does time seem to slow down at times like this? And no, I hadn't taken any Jet because, now say it with me; _Jet'll make you jittery_ —I watched Sarah scramble into to her power armor. The siren began to wail as the air filled with the scent of smoke and plasma burning just as the siren sounded.

I waited a half a second to watch Sarah's armor close. When I saw her sniper rifle in her hands, I followed with my shotgun.

"This way. The creek!"

Dodging from cover to cover Phade and I followed Sarah through the houses. Around us weapons began to appear at windows while settlers searched for targets Something pinged off Sarah's armor and I watched her stagger back. What the fuck is going on?

We crested the bank, effectively sky-lining ourselves to the hordes of Raiders splashing through the creek and running towards us. A laser blast hit me square in the chest to remind me of my foolish tactical choices.

A voice next to me shouted, "Ah, FUCK. Those aren't just raiders those are Khans. FUCK! We gotta move."

That was Phade. Potty mouth, much?

"Bring your gang friends with you?" I shouted back, reloading my shotgun with practiced fingers. I packed the slugs myself which made a deadly mix of rusted metal bits. That slowed them down. Sarah switched to an automatic weapon and we kept firing.

Phade dropped to her belly. She didn't waste a bullet. Every shot hit true.

"Jake! Sarah! If they overrun the town we won't be able to stop them. They don't take prisoners. Signal the settlers to flank these guys in the creek bed."

Sarah answered without turning her head, "Preston's got it."

True to her word I heard the Minuteman shouting instructions. We did our best to keep the raiders occupied while Preston moved the settlers and Minutemen into position. A few well-placed grenades slowed them down. One of the raiders, apparently with a death wish charged Sarah. Without a second's hesitation she flipped her rifle around and broke his nose with a wet sounding crunch. The met him with the butt of her rifle, Sarah broke a raider's nose. When he roared in pain and fell backwards she tossed him a little present. When the others ran up to help him they found a cryo mine under their feet. Bye, bye, bad guys.

Ah, the smell of fresh blood and guts in the morning.

To our left, Phade worked her way through the scrub crawling on her belly picking off stragglers and the ones trying to sneak behind our position.. Alright, I'll say it, she's good. And I admit to feeling a certain kinship with her. If you intended to survive out here you had to learn a few skills. The kind of skills you didn't learn in a Vault or polite society.

"Moving up!" Sarah shouted into her radio. Hey, we aren't exactly bulletproof in this armor. I watched her sprint toward the raiders hiding behind the trees and one by one she took them out. Then Strong joined her shouting, "I'll eat your legs!" and I believe I heard him promise on of the raiders he'd wear their guts around his neck. Such a colorful vocabulary. The Muteys in the Capital Wasteland never spoke with such eloquence.

It was all over in just about thirty minutes. How it ended was the weird part. The Minutemen's tactics worked and very soon we had them boxed in at the bottom of the creek. They weren't giving up. But their Khan banner was down and several of them were out of ammo. That's when the weirdness began. Deep in the forest we heard a wailing sound. Sarah and I exchanged a look.

"Human?"

She shrugged her shoulders. Then it came again something between a battle cry and a snarl or maybe a roar. That's the best I can describe it, but I'll tell you this, the hair stood up on my arms and my stomach dropped somewhere in the vicinity of my knees. What the hell?

Phade climbed to her feet. "Well, I'll be," she said quietly while reloading her weapon.

Then Strong yelled something incomprehensible and went charging into the woods. In the direction of the soldiers or the shout I had no idea.

Then quick as they arrived, they raiders began to disappear into the forest.

I was about to shout for us to hold our position, but Sarah beat me to it. Before I could take a breath, Garvey echoed her command to the settlers still inside the houses. Then everything got real quiet. We couldn't even hear the sound of Strong's feet running through the brush. We held our ground and stayed silent until the birds began to move back into the trees.

Well, I have questions. Plenty of questions. But I'll wait and give Sarah the chance to pull everyone together. This is her turf, after all.

A message come down from the guard on the tower and Sarah and I puzzled over it until Phade looked at it. I remembered something she said earlier.

"Phade, what did you mean before when we heard that shout?"

"Can't say for sure. If he thinks it's necessary he'll show himself."

"Look, we need to have a meeting to discuss what just happened. You'll go first so you can explain the why's and how's of the Khans showing up on our doorstep. They're a long way from home, Phade."

"Sturgis, please have chairs brought into the main house. Then post guards at the windows."

He gave Sarah a sharp salute and headed back to Sanctuary at a trot. She didn't say anything else just shouldered headed out behind Sturgis.

"Don't take it personal, pretty boy. She's got stuff on her mind."

I shrugged off Phade's hand on my shoulder. "We all do, Phade. We all do."

~o~

The living area of the main house filled up as Phade (Why is she here again?) Sarah, Garvey, Sturgis and a few others filed in and took their places. Sarah walked to the front of the crowd. I didn't like to see her standing in front of that big picture window, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Delegates, just an hour ago Sanctuary was attacked by raiders and not just any raiders, but the Khans. The Khans are a heavily organized group from out West. Their presence complicates our efforts at removing Elder Maxson from power."

That sounded nicer than _I intend to cut his fucking throat and toss him off the forecastle of the Prydwen_. Such fine manners. She granted Phade the floor and sat down next to me. Before the Courier could open her mouth the sound of Strong's feet pounding on the pavement outside took our attention toward the windows. Strong is shouting again and he sounds happy, I think.

"Strong found him! Strong good tracker! Strong smart!"

Okay, I couldn't resist, "Who did you find, Strong?"

The huge Mutey stepped aside and behind him walked in the strangest looking man I'd ever seen. Now you know I've seen strange. But this guy? Dressed in leather and fur, his muscular legs were bare except for the knee high fur lined boots. I'm trying not to stare, but this guy was huge and better looking than me. Although I suppose that's irrelevant. His torso was covered in a leather chest piece reinforced with bits of—holy fuck were those death claw teeth?—while his black eyes scanned the room until he found Sarah and me.

His skin darkened by years outdoors, with dark eyes that have seen too much of the world and well armed, the mystery man headed toward us. More like stalked us, like we were little animals he intended to cook for supper. We both stood up. I think I stood up with the idea of making a run for it. But then I noticed Phade is smiling and Strong is practically jumping up and down.

The big guy tapped his fist against his chest and in a voice that sounded like he was talking over broken glass, "I am known as Spirit. I have answers to your questions. If you can hear them."

"If I can hear… What does that even mean?"

His eyes slid away from my face with a frown. Yeah, great going, Jake. Piss him off right off the bat.

Of course, Strong had to put in his two cents. "Stupid human better listen to Spirit."

Spirit crossed his arms over his chest and looked as he was prepared to wait. Who was brave enough to talk to him was another matter.


	17. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 17

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 17

AN: Sorry for the delay. Stress at work sucked up all my creativity.

Trigger warning: Rape

The character of Phade the Courier belongs exclusively to Dragonsoul1 and included in my story with their kind permission.

The character of Marcus Thresh, aka Spirit, belongs exclusively to TheStorybookTree and included in my story with their kind permission.

* * *

"Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Blanche Dubois, _A Streetcar Named Desire_

* * *

I should have known. It was our very own Mrs. Sarah Flint who squared her with the new guy. She drew herself up and turned a pair of inquisitive blue eyes on him.

"Is it, Mister Spirit? Or, just Spirit?"

I watched both his eyebrows disappear under the death claw skull perched on his head. No, I decided. I wouldn't ask him how effective that was for protection. He appeared to lack both a sense of humor and the restraint that would keep him from adding my skull to his hat collection. Then Strong stepped in and underlined it for us. He's good at that.

"Strong bored. Tired of sitting. Strong tell Spirit what he needs to know. These people want to take over the Commonwealth. Good intentions. The Human, Sarah is a leader. This one," he gestured to me with a wave of his meaty fist. "Knows nothing about milk of human kindness. More like Puck, the merry wanderer. Too many jokes. Joke. Joke. Joke."

Well, I don't have to listen to someone insulting me, so I turned my attention back to our guest. Let me put it this way. He's wearing the skin, bones and fur of every creature he's ever killed. From his belt hang a death claw gauntlet and a tomahawk that looks as if it's carved from a mole rat tooth. I can't even put a name to the knife blade strapped to his thigh. Interestingly he carries no firearm. Instead, there's an elegant and efficient looking bow and arrow strapped to his back.

Always wanted to learn how to use a bow and arrow. Maybe he would teach me? His head swiveled on his massive shoulders, and he stared down at me. Can he read minds, too? I straightened my spine. Naw. Maybe I won't ask. Next to me I heard Phade sigh.

Sarah let Strong say his peace then she stepped back to the windows. "We cannot allow ourselves to be distracted now. There's too much at stake, and we are losing our momentum. Strong and Phade, do you vouch for Spirit?"

They both nodded. Strong damn near knocked a hole in the roof with his enthusiastic head bobbing.

"Spirit? Why would you grant us your loyalty? We are strangers to each other and what is said here tonight, if revealed, could bring this town down in flames and endanger the lives of many good people."

Obviously, in no mood to give a quick answer the man scanned the room thoughtfully. What I mean is, he appeared thoughtful. Maybe he just didn't know what to say. We all waited patiently. Why I don't know. It was time to divide up resources. Time to begin our journeys and fulfill our assigned missions. I wasn't looking forward to going back to the Prydwen, but Maxson trusted me, so I was the logical choice. Finally. It seemed like the big guy found something to say.

"Phade and Strong are known to me. We fought many battles together."

There's that Mutey grin again.

"You have good people and are well prepared. The winds of the Great Plains carried your call for help to me. And I am here to lend strength and wisdom to your cause. I have allies, as does Phade," he concluded and stepped to her side.

It took all my willpower not to roll my eyes. Phade must have read my mind because she jabbed me in the ribs with an elbow. I enjoyed a quick fantasy about Sarah and me having a laugh over this guy later. But she is paying attention to what he says and so is everyone else.

Sarah spoke up again, "I trust, Strong." Sarah glanced at Phade, who nodded. I watched her take a deep breath. Even Preston nodded for her to continue. "Spirit, a meeting was held in Goodneighbor a week ago where a group of loyalists laid the groundwork for a strike for freedom for all residents of the Commonwealth. Will you willingly follow one of our trusted agents on their mission? We are to begin in the morning."

She turned to Preston. "Even in Minutemen uniforms, I think they'll stand out."

"I agree," Preston nodded. You and Jake return to the _Prydwen_ as discussed, then begin your tour of the Commonwealth under the guise of recruiting. I have a Minuteman uniform ready for Jacob."

Now she's looking at Spirit. "I need eyes and ears out there in the Commonwealth. You, Phade and Strong visit the Settlements, tour the downtown areas and report your findings back to Sturges. We will meet here in three weeks. Be safe."

Everyone got up to leave, except me. I was too interested watching Sarah plant herself in front of Spirit and Phade. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were paying attention to her words. Tomorrow was the big day. I thought of Matt and the boys, Hancock, MacCready and Danse and wished them well.

Not much left to do but buy some lunch from the vendor and head back to the Red Rocket. I had packing to do and weapons to clean. Tossing a mutfruit rind into the river, I topped the small rise. Sarah was brushing down our horses. Now where in the hell had they been hiding? My heart skipped a beat that had nothing to do with fear.

Her hair is scraped back into a ponytail, and she's wearing an old flannel shirt and jeans. I know she heard me approach, but she didn't look up until I'm standing next to her. When she does, there's a blush staining her cheeks. But she's caught me with those eyes of hers. What did she see when she looked at me? A clown or a friend?

"I know. If I weren't such a hard-ass, I'd blush too."

She blushed even harder and tried to put the horses between us. Time for a change of topic. "You were great back there. You don't need my confirmation, but you're a natural leader, Sarah."

"When all this started, I just wanted to find my son. I did whatever was necessary to find the clues that might lead me to him. I met all these wonderful people. They never questioned my motives. They saw a mother looking for her lost son and offered to help. In spite of all the horrors, everyone I've met has hope for a better day and the willingness to work for it."

"And you've done an incredible job out here." She didn't need my compliments or validation. Her actions were validation enough for anyone. She seemed thoughtful as if the memories pressed to close this afternoon.

"I guess I understand now, why you were so quick to trust in Spirit and Phade."

"I learned to trust my instincts out here. So far they've kept me alive."

"Yeah, I know all about that," I replied thinking of Matt and the boys. "Sarah? Do you think they're will ever be a day when death, survival, and weapons won't be a natural part of a conversation?"

She didn't answer me right away. The horses went back in their stalls, and she locked the door. Dogmeat One and Two settled in for the afternoon outside the small stable. I watched them curl up together and swallowed hard. The brushes went neatly on a shelf, and she washed her hands at the pump

I should leave. "Sarah, I'm walking back to Sanctuary. I'll see you first thing in the morning."

"No, wait. I'll go. Your equipment is here and mine…"

"... is here, too."

A breeze with an icy feel to it stirred the dust. She zipped up her flight jacket. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she took a thousand yard stare.

"Jacob, if we're dancing around something, then we should, at least, define what it is."

There it was. An admission that there was something between us. Most importantly, it came from her, not me. I held out my arm to her like a gentleman.

"There're four Gwinnett beers chilling inside, and it's my turn to cook. How about we negotiate terms and definitions over dinner?"

"But you just ate."

 _Please take my arm, Sarah._

And, she did.

~o0o~

The vertibird dropped out of the sky just before dawn. Dressed in our power armor, we stood silently waiting for our ride. Yesterday, we drank our beer and talked. I made Mirelurk stew from my supplies. Know what I noticed? Unless she was using her hands to eat, she kept fiddling with her wedding band. But she did laugh at my dumb stories and opened up a little more about her family. For all the sadness, I felt a little envious of that family. Sure, I had a family in the vault. A father who raised me with affection. Adulthood? Well, that was a very different thing.

By the time, we berthed at the _Prydwen_ , the morning sun had bathed the entire Commons in golden light. I stopped to enjoy the view, then a summons from Elder Maxson boomed over the speakers. Before I headed to the flight deck, I felt a knock on my armor. I had to smile. She'd just rapped her metal knuckles on my pauldrons. I liked it. So I knocked back. Great idea.

Maxson waited for me in his usual spot. This didn't seem like a friendly chat. Remember that icy wind? It whistled through my chest and left my fingers and toes numb. You couldn't read his face. I doubted even Danse could do that. While I waited respectfully for Maxson to speak, three heavily armed Knights formed up behind me. No, I didn't turn around. There's no mistaking the sound of a minigun. I guess I should be flattered, right? _Shit._

The hatch opened again, but I didn't dare turn around. Every instinct told me to keep my eyes on Maxson.

"Take their weapons."

 _Their weapons?_ Was that Sarah behind me? I knew it was her. Dammit, things would move very quickly now and at this point in our plans might end in our deaths.

"Knight Jacob step out of your armor," Maxson said to me with all the friendliness of a predator sizing up its next meal. To the men behind me, he said, "If Knight Sarah resists, force her out of it."

He chuckled. Not a pleasant sound.

"An old friend visited me last night, Jacob. Had quite a bit to say about you two."

 _Spirit. I'll beat him to death with those damn bones of his._

"Didn't believe a word he said, but his visit did cause me to realize I needed to step up one of two of my long-range plans." He grinned and rested his chin on his fist. "And since you are both here, we can begin."

Sarah sucked in a breath. I stepped forward. You know that whole Saint Michael thing. All it got me was my arms jerked up behind my back hard enough to bring me up on my toes.

"What do you imagine you might accomplish, Jacob? Do you believe you can save the beautiful princess? That's the rot they raise you on in those Vaults isn't it?"

"Elder Maxson, our intentions are obvious. We are here to report in and meet, Paladin Danse with the results of our last mission."

"Such a pretty lie, from such a beautiful woman. You aren't here to report in and Paladin Danse is in Quincey. But you will have a task to perform." He cupped her face with his scarred hand.

"Get your fucking hands off her."

"Your boyfriend has a dirty mouth. Fortunately, that's not an inherited trait. So, while I admit to feeling just a little jealous, it's time. Take them!"

Sarah slapped him across the face. Wow, she has a punch. His head rocked back on his shoulders. I took my chance to distract him further.

"Take us where?" I didn't want to hear the answer, but I wasn't ready to let this go. Not by a long, shot."

"Well, since you asked. I've prepared a honeymoon chamber for you two."

So the time had finally come for him to force the issue. "I will not touch her, Maxson."

"Then you will watch me rape her, now, on this deck. Afterward, she will be handed around to a handpicked group of knights. And just in case, you start refusing, Knight Sarah. I'll gut him and you can watch your vault boyfriend bleed out very slowly while my knights take their turns on you. Your choice, my dear."

Sarah nodded once.

"Very well. Take them and make sure they remove their clothes before you lock them in. I'll handle the cameras from here."

 _Cameras? Fuck._

In we went, tossed naked into a small room with only a bed and a small latrine. Of course, it's cold in here. Well, maybe that will work to my advantage. Keep Big Jake at bay. You know how it is. I can't look at her.

"Sarah, I'm sorry about this."

"Don't be. It's what we both want isn't it?"

"Is it? Like this?"

She stepped around in front of me. _Geez, don't do this._

"You're not afraid of anything," I managed…barely.

"Not true. I'm scared of carrying a baby to term only to watch it die. Or, if I die in childbirth leaving it to grow up alone, in this tortured world, like MacCready or Danse."

Turning her dry eyes to mine, she slid her hands around my waist. Clutching at the bare skin as if to still a trembling. Then I got the answer to everything when she stepped into me. I grabbed for her, threading one hand into her hair and the other around her shoulders.

 _I will keep you safe. And then what you idiot? Die trying and leave her alone to face the consequences of our actions here today?_


	18. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 18

Title: It's a Long, Long Road

Chapter: 18

AN: Not that it isn't fun, but I'm tired of writing from Jake's POV. So we're going to try something different. BTW, thanks to the guest who reminded how to spell _Sturges_ and clean up the incomprehensible opening sentences.

* * *

"The urge to save humanity is almost always a false-face for the urge to rule it." —H.L. Mencken

* * *

 **Elsewhere** **in the Commonwealth…**

The unlikely trio headed south toward Concord. Reports claimed there wasn't much left there but a few ghouls. This made it a good place to start talking about the future and get a feel for who might be interested in joining the cause.

"Strong, if you don't shut the fuck up…"

"…Strong not afraid of you, Phade. Strong not afraid of anyone!"

"Enough breast-beating, we have a job to do."

"Yeah, Spirit. 'Cause breast-beating is your department. So tell us. Who is your Animal Spirit Guide this week?"

"Do not mock, what you do not understand, Phade."

"Phade always mocking something. Just like Jake. Strong worried about Jake and Sarah."

"Here we go again."

Strong stopped on the road and lifted his head as if he were sniffing the air.

"Something is wrong. Spirit can sense it, too."

Phade threw her hands in the air. "Look, we have a job to do. _They_ have a job to do. What the hell do you think would happen if we sauntered up to the _Prydwen_ and knocked?"

The Mutant chuckled, "Strong wouldn't knock."

~o0o~

It didn't take the boys long to locate a vertibird. The trick was finding one that hadn't already been shot down.

"Why do think they always crash, Matt?"

"I don't know. They don't know anything about tactics or just taking cover when it gets dangerous. Anyway, there's one down there by the shore. Let's go."

Twelve boys dressed identically in US Navy cadet uniforms ran down the hill toward the vertibird. They found the pilot and the gunner enjoying a cigarette. Their blue lunch pails sitting open on an old park bench.

 _Perfect._

"Hey, Mister!" Matt called out, quickly assisting the other boys into the vertibird. "Me and my Boy Scout Pack want a tour of that awesome airship."

Before the pilot could react, the boys had climbed aboard and strapped themselves in. Just to get them moving Matt reached for the minigun. "Dude, can I man the gun while we fly?"

That did the trick. Both the gunner and the pilot jumped into the ship. "Don't touch that! Damn kids. Who authorized you to take a tour?"

"We met Proctor Teagan when he came to our pack meeting to teach us about how to handle weapons safely. That was fun, wasn't it guys?"

A chorus of yeses caused the cringing Knights to jam their helmets over their heads without questioning the boy's claim.

"What do you think?" The pilot shouted through the helmet radio

The gunner shrugged his shoulders. "Let's just get it them to the Prydwen and we'll hand them off to Teagan when we get there."

The vertibird's engines roared to life. The boys grinned as the aircraft lifted off the ground. Before they gave themselves over to appreciating the view outside the aircraft, they enjoyed a congratulatory round of high-fives.

~o0o~

Danse and MacCready had been walking for hours struggling through the miasma and filth of the Glowing Sea. Throughout their trek, Danse noticed MacCready's step grow increasingly unsteady. When a flash of yellow lightning light up the small valley his head swiveled and he crouched down defensively, Danse knew MacCready was scanning for another death claw. They'd already killed two of them. Danse could hardly blame him for the anxiety, this was his second trip and it was no better than the first time with Knight Sarah.

With the last row of razor sharp rocks in sight, Paladin Danse assisted MacCready over the treacherous landscape and up the narrow path. Even the power armor couldn't keep MacCready from hyperventilating in fear of the thick air and rotten smell of radiation. He'd been afraid of lightning since he was a kid. No one knew, of course. The radiation storms the Commonwealth experienced only added to his unease. But he couldn't allow Danse to notice his childish fear.

Then an arm circled under his shoulders and lifted him off the ground. Danse knocked his helmet gently against the McCready's helmet.

"The entrance to the cave is at our twelve o'clock. See the shadow? Just a few more steps."

Danse's calm tone made MacCready take a deep breath and then another. Once inside, Danse settled him against the rock face and steadied him with his hands on his shoulders. The boiling fear began to fade. If it were possible, MacCready felt warmth and comfort through the metal that concealed them both.

Lightning flashed again and thunder shook the cave walls and boomed up through their feet. MacCready clutched at Danse's arms, terror shredding his tentative hold on fear. Fear he knew. Fear he could control.

"I-I need to get this helmet off! I can't breathe!" But when he reached for the latches of his helmet, Danse simply used his body weight to pin him against the cave wall.

"RJ!"

The unusual use of his nickname made MacCready go still. Then Danse bent his head to lay it alongside the other man's helmet.

"Everyone is afraid of something, RJ. I don't just hate feral ghouls, I fear them. I've seen them tear men to pieces and eat their flesh. If just once, I don't watch, they'll rise up and get their filthy hands on me. The stinking, rotten meat smell…"

"…One night we found shelter inside a subway…Stupid idea…Feral Ghouls…They came. I had to stay quiet to keep my son safe…he was just a baby…I had to let them kill my wife. I'll never forget the sound of her screams."

"You have a son?" Danse murmured into his helmet mic, his voice as shaky as MacCready's.

"Uh, if you two are finished. With whatever it is, you're doing…?"

Danse pushed himself away and pulled himself to attention. "Virgil! Virgil? The serum, it worked."

"Obviously, now what are you doing down here?"

"Knight Sarah and the Minutemen…" MacCready began until Virgil interrupted him by holding up his hand.

"Come inside. I figured she might try something like this." He kept talking as he led the two men deeper into the cave. "Just tell me, if she plans to create a united Commonwealth, how will she subdue that madman Maxson and his zealots? And what about the Institute and the synths?"

"That is what we are here to talk to you about."

~o0o~

I'm swimming in a sea of lust and sinking fast as my senses short circuit from the pressure of her against me. Fuck the cameras, weapons, certain death, and that freaky little bastard Maxson watching us there's little I can do to conceal my desire for her now.

She's trembling hard, her entire body clinging to mine. I'll just pick her up and get it over with. But I don't want to. I want to take hours with her. Make sure she isn't nervous because I'm pretty sure her husband was the first and last guy she slept with.

 _Slept with?_

What a ridiculous description of what I want. I want to take her. Have her. Mark her as mine. Give her another child to hold. As many as she wants. I'll go slow and be gentle, of course. Then give her time to ask for what she needs. And I'll do whatever I can to ensure she never regrets her choice or have any reason to worry about our family's safety. Ever. _Our family._

She's moving, her hands hold my face. My vision is blurred, the metal walls and the cold disappear, but I can see her lips asking for a kiss. I can do that. Just before I kiss her, I murmured something stupid like, "I'm sorry."

You might expect, oh, it's okay. But no, she bit my lip. She bit my lip! I think I taste blood.

"I'm not," she said and wrapped her arms around my neck.

 _Oh, fuck._

I lifted her in my arms and we fell together onto the narrow bed.

~o0o~

Concord seemed empty until night darkened the town enough that the glow of fire became visible on the top floor of an old red-brick building. Spirit fisted his hand in the air, indicating for them to halt.

"Strong, stay where you are."

"Strong not a dog. Strong knows better than to rush ahead."

Phade and Spirit both looked at him. "And when did that miracle occur?"

"You make fun of Strong! One of these days, Mutants kill everyone."

"So you keep saying. Let's move."

The business end of a musket laser met them at the top of the stairs. They stopped until Phade noticed the colors of a Minuteman uniform.

"Minutemen? We come in peace under the command of General Sarah. We wish only to talk."

The door opened fully creaking on its rusted hinges. Inside, they found twenty men and women spread around the fireplace. A few enjoyed a meal from their mess kit while several were sleeping on cots. An older man with the road map of his life etched into his features extended a hand.

"Name's Thresh. Marcus Thresh."

"Come in. Join us by the fire. I'm Colonel Jones. We heard that change is in the air. Word's gotten around the Settlements and towns that the tyranny of Elder Maxson will end soon. We are ready."

"You heard correctly, Colonel. But there is much work left to do. General Sarah and Knight Jacob are on the _Prydwen_ now. Others headed east. We are to meet in three weeks in Sanctuary at the full of the moon. Muster your troops and meet us there."

The Colonel gestured to one of the officers just finishing his meal. The officer called the soldiers to attention. When he had they were still he began to speak. Soon, each man and women spoke with him, "We trust in God that, should the state of our affairs require it, we shall be ready to sacrifice our estates and everything dear in life, yea, and life itself, in support of the common cause."

When the finished, there was a moment of silence.

"Captain Revere. Muster the men and women. Put them on the swiftest horses and send word the time has come. We meet in Sanctuary in three weeks. Go now. Spread the word."

The room emptied quickly. Each Minuteman spun to the job they'd trained for this moment. Uniforms were straightened, duffles packed and weapons handed out from their small armory.

When they were alone, the companions turned to each other. This time, even Strong was silent. In the street below the sound of running feet and excited horses rose into the night.

Spirit took Phade's hand, lay the other on Strong's forearm and bowed his head. "It has begun." As if his words were the opening lines of a prayer.

~o0o~

The vertibird's engines echoed down the flight deck as she moved into her berth. Before she quieted, the boys jumped down and ran for the main hatch. Once inside they scattered quickly each with a particular task. Ignoring the warning shouts of the Knights, Matthew sprinted down the main corridor and skidded to a halt in front of Proctor Teagan's door. The boys behind him grabbed the weapons Teagan handed through the window.

Once free, Teagan grabbed Matthew by the shoulder and thrust a bag in his hands. "Take this, bottom deck, last room, the aft end of the ship. The combination is _honeymoon_. Got it?"

What's honeymoon?"

"Never mind, kid. Just open the door throw in the bag and hightail it back up here. Move!"

Matthew did as he was told and dodged past the confused and angry crew. Yet, no one tried to actually stop him or aim a weapon at him. Weird. Two ladders and an endless catwalk later he arrived at a room with a monitor. The keyboard obediently slid out and he typed the word. Was it honey or homey? How did you spell it, anyway? He realized he didn't know what honey was.

Oh, fuck! He'd tried too many variations and now he was blocked out. Knights ran toward him now, their boots clattering on the metal ladders. Ten seconds went by like an eternity.

honeymoon

The keyboard slid away and the door opened. Matthew did as he was ordered and tossed the bag inside the room. Two voices shouted from the darkness. Then his eyes adjusted to the gloom and he saw a familiar pair of blue eyes and bare shoulders. Jacob rolled from the bed to his feet.

Matthew's eyes went wide.

"What are you staring at, sailor? There's work to do. We're right behind you! Move!"


	19. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 19

Title: It's a Long, Long Road

Chapter: 19

AN: Thanks and Spartan Smiles to LT Hawkin SpartanII 065 for assistance with this chapter.

Phade the Courier is the property of Dragonsoul1 and included in my story with their kind permission.

Marcus Thresh, aka Spirit is the property of TheStorybookTree and included in my story with their kind permission.

* * *

"Will you join in our crusade

Who will be strong and stand with me

Beyond the barricade

Is there a world you long to see

Then join in the fight

That will give you the right to be free."

—Les Miserables, _Do You Hear The People Sing?_

* * *

 **Elsewhere in the Commonwealth**

The setting sun sent faded yellow rays through the scudding storm clouds. Spirit eyes narrowed as he watched for movement in the shadows. Squinting through the ancient motes of dust hung in the air as if frozen in time. Nothing moved, but Spirit waited, keeping watch. They'd need to take shelter for the night soon.

Six mounted Minutemen made their way slowly up Concord's empty main street to meet Phade and Spirit. The horse's mud-splattered legs stepped carefully over the broken ground. Four men and two women also mud splattered, with their hands slack on the reins allowed their horses to find their own way through the debris. Phade watched them approach and glanced at Spirit. He nodded back. If there weren't food waiting for them, inside they'd share what they had. They pulled their horses up just outside the Museum of Freedom. The Minutemen dismounted, nodding to Spirit as they led their tired horses through the front door.

A hand on his arm broke his concentration. "I'll stay out here a little longer, Phade. You go in."

On a typical day, she would toss a sharp denial his way. But today was anything but normal. "Come on, Marcus. I saw guards on the roof. For once, let them do their job."

With the understanding look of friendship, Spirit pushed Phade inside and took a last look around.

The city died two hundred years ago. Even the foul smell of ghouls was gone. Nothing left but rotting timber, dried bones, and empty streets. Dust swirled unfettered along the cracked pavement.

Once, so long ago that the tales have passed into legend, the city teemed with life. He could see it in the flickering shadows, shafts of sunlight and the ghost faces of the residents peering at him from the broken windows. Children rode their bikes on these streets, shouting and laughing. They stopped to buy candy or Nuka Cola. Neighbors and shopkeepers calling to each other. Older brothers held their younger siblings hand when they crossed the street. Picnics and baseball games. Church on Sunday and supper afterward. They lived their lives, had children and grew old, safe and secure that all was well with their world.

Inside the main hall, he found tables set up with food and a cookstove giving off welcome waves of heat. The Minutemen were making themselves comfortable by spreading out their bedrolls. One of them held up a bottle of whiskey, giving it a friendly shake in his direction. He waved a hand at them and moved on. The men and women of the Minutemen deserved a night of peace. They wouldn't see it again for many weeks. The capacity humans to rise up to better themselves always impressed him. It always surprised him, too. Sadly their capacity for evil no longer had that effect.

The sound of lumbering footsteps brought Spirit out of his thoughts. The rafters shook with the force. The horses, distracted by the sound and smell of a Super Mutant began to circle, snorting and whinnying at the presence of the mutant. A grin split Strong's face at the sight of the horses, and he quickened his step. Strong patted the horse's flank with his huge hands, quieting them.

"Strong not eat pretty horses. Strong like horses. Horses strong like me!"

Spirit stepped around the mutant impatiently and extended his hand to Preston. "What's the news, Officer Garvey?

Garvey shouldered his weapon and grasped Spirit's hand. "From Sanctuary to Abernathy Farm and Starlight Theater the settlers have fortified their defenses. They're dug in pretty deep and ready. Each sent able-bodied men and women East to the Airport."

Phade appeared at his side, "Anything from the East?"

Garvey shook his head. "Only a coded message from Desdemona." Phade took it from him and moved to the light to decode the message. "One more thing," Garvey said. "We managed to get a working pre-war camera to record it here it is. This won't be easy to see."

"Nothing ever is."

The monitor screen flashed, and Garvey indicated for everyone to join them. They watched in deafening silence as a Brotherhood Knight demanded a group of six traders hand over all their advanced technology. The traders refused, but the knight shouldered his rifle and made his demand again. One of the traders was either really brave or currently had psycho running through his system because he charged the knight with a knife. The Knight ducked into a crouch and flipped the charging man over his shoulder laying him out in the dirt. Before the man could move the Knight took aim at the unconscious figure and fired. Turning, he reloaded and ignoring their pleas, the Knight killed the traders one by one until it was just him and the caravan. At his signal other Knights emerged from cover and watched, their faces blank, while the Knight looted the caravan before setting fire to the remaining goods.

"Anything for the Brotherhood. Right, boys?"

The crowd of BOS tore their eyes away from the flames and nodded. Behind them, unnoticed except for those watching the vid a Squire vomited helplessly into a ditch.

To everyone else it looked like a stick-up turned violent. Until, Phade flipped the monitor off.

"Desdemona's message confirmed what you just witnessed. She says... _goddamn_." She looked to Spirit for the strength to keep talking, her usual bravado failing. "The Railroad found a hundred...they think it was a hundred, Gen-3 synths. Couldn't be sure after the fire. Looked like they'd been rounded up inside a safe house. Most of the females were naked...clothes torn off...some of the men...same. Raped with weapons and shot from the inside. Decapitations. When they were done, they trapped the synths inside and torched the building. They found a Railroad agent dead outside. Cut her up pretty bad, then left her to bleed out."

Across the room, a Minuteman removed his hat and cleared his throat. "We saw some things. Now that the Northern Star is empty seems like the BOS took it over and turned it into a…We snuck in after we watched them leave. We knew they were headed to the Prydwyn. We hid our uniforms. Three females stayed behind. We followed the sound of their voices. They were drunk and out of their armor.

She swallowed back the bitter taste of bile. "Just say it," Phade encouraged the young man to speak. They all needed to hear this.

"They had this fellow tied up, spread eagle on the deck. Teasing him. Making him do things to them. When he wouldn't perform, they shocked him with a baton." He wiped his face on his sleeve. "I seen things. Bad things. But I ain't never seen women torture and rape a man. We gotta stop them."

"We will. Did you kill the Knights?"

"We did, sir. We took their bodies and sank them in the ocean so it would look like they just left. Their armor is packed on the horses. The folks at Warwick Homestead said they'd take care of him."

Spirit held up his hands. "Listen, all of you. Your courageous acts have pulled together an army of followers ready to end Maxson's tyranny. Tonight, we rest and resupply. At first light, we make our way East toward the airport and The Prydwen. There's more, but we can't risk one of us knowing everything. Each group has a particular mission. Are you with me?"

Exhausted and at the end of their endurance, the Minutemen nodded and headed off to their bedrolls.

"I'll cut his fucking dick off, Marcus."

Spirit put a cautious arm around Phade. "Not if I get to him first. Now get some rest."

"You first, big guy."

"Phade…"

"Let's take a walk and check on everyone. See what's needed."

Spirit knew better than to argue with this spitfire. Most days he was just thankful she called him a friend. Being her enemy came with consequences. Shoulder to shoulder they walked from group to group, speaking quietly, shaking a hand or taking a small sip of whatever was offered to them. Many of the Minutemen wanted to touch Spirit as if he were a totem or a good luck charm.

In an hour, Strong was sleeping among the horses with his back against the wall frankly asleep. The horses slept nose to tail, with their hips slack and their ears splayed. The men put away the dice and cards. Even the no prisoners game of Blast Radius had quieted.

~o0o~

 **The Prydwen/Jacob's POV**

She was out the door before I even got my uniform zipped. Happily I managed to avoid zipping up any vital body parts and stomp my boots on in time to catch her before she made it to the stairs. With an arm looped around her waist, I pulled her into the shadows.

"That was certainly memorable," she quipped and bit my lower lip.

 _Jesus Christ._ I'm nearly blinded by own physiology—Hey, I'm trying to be nice here. I know some of you are a bit squeamish—pounding through me like a pissed off Alpha Deathclaw.

"Woman." I stopped her and carded my fingers into that black hair to hold her still while I looked down into her face. My heart's hammering in my head like a fucking gong. She makes me want, and she makes me need. I never allowed myself these silly emotions. Emotions like love and the rest of that crap are for girls. Girls like Matta and Moira. _Dammit._ We had no time. I pressed my lips to hers quick and hard anyway. "We have unfinished business. So you be careful out there. I'll meet you on the bridge."

"See you soon," she murmured as if we were making plans for dinner and hadn't just been naked together. And, no, since I know you're wondering. Nothing happened.

"Sarah?" I let her go, and she stepped away. "Promise me." For a moment, I let myself drown in those blue eyes of hers. There wasn't a body of water in the Commonwealth or Capital Wasteland as blue as... _Oh, will you listen to me?_ I told myself never to trust a woman and now this one's got me wrapped around her finger...her trigger finger.

"I promise, Jake. I promise." Then she's all business when she turned and ran down the corridor.

I was in that frame of mind where I figured I could pull this airship out of the sky with just my fists. But I had a job to do, and we were running out of time. Taking the ladder two rungs at a time, I started climbing. Just before I stepped into the open area I got my breathing under control.

The way he leaned forward over the window he'd apparently been waiting for me. No one was looking my way, so I walked calmly toward the terminal to the left of his window. I got the door open in just two tries. Thank, whatever gods there are because here came the boys sliding inside and ducked behind the counter.

While Teagan and I pretended to talk, the boys scrambled into the Squire uniforms he laid out of them. Matt shoved their Navy uniforms inside a crate and handed each of them a tricked out automatic pipe pistol. While I worried about Sarah—tried not to worry about Sarah—the boys were dressed and ready to go in minutes.

While Teagan chatted up the Scribe at this window, the boys crawled across the floor and out of the back door. Their mission? Deflate this damn balloon. Thier strategy? The Knight's would think twice before pulling the trigger inside a balloon with those miniguns. That's, of course, if they didn't go crazy with their desire to protect the ship. And why wouldn't they?

Proctor Teagan handed me a shock baton, talking all the while about how he'd modded it just for me. With a modded plasma pistol inside my shirt, I headed forward, toward Lancer Captain Kell and whatever fate awaited me.

No. To hell with that kind of thinking. My destiny was in my hands. The Minutemen, Phade, and Spirit. Those brave settlers who decided that no one would move them off their land. Not this time. My heart swelled with pride because that was Sarah's doing.

No one questioned me as I used the handrails to slid down to the bridge deck.

Lancer Captain Kell glanced up at my arrival. Well, here we go. I swallowed hard and closed the hatch. The four scribes had their hands up before I even said a word. I must be badass, huh?

"What is the meaning of this?" Kell glared at me under the rim of his cap.

"I'm armed, sir. No sense anyone getting hurt so you just follow my orders and this will turn out just fine. Keep your hands where I can see them. All of you. Now, take the ship down."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Possibly. Come on now. Do as I say."

~o0o~

Spirit found Phade heading toward the exit. All around them the small army of Minutemen slept on in the blue light of early dawn. She handed him a cup of something hot and a bowl of vegetable soup. They headed outside.

Intent on his meal, Spirit didn't notice they had company until Phade hissed something long and dirty. That woman had a vocabulary.

Filled with smoldering cook fires and packs. The blood red insignia on the flag that flew over the tents left no doubt to their identity. At a signal from their leader men and women begin crawling out from their makeshift tents. With a wry grin, the leader approached Phade and Spirit. The grin spread across his handsome features. He might be Papa Khan, but no matter how glad he was to see Phade he knew better than to hug her. Spirit accepted his hand with a firm grasp.

"Good to see you, Marcus. Ready to get this party started?"


	20. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 20

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 20

AN: Thanks and Spartan Smiles to _LT Hawkin SpartanII 065_ for his input and assistance (he doesn't want me to call him a co-author) with this chapter.

Phade the Courier is the property _Dragonsoul1_ and included in my story with their kind permission.

Marcus Thresh, aka Spirit, is the property of _TheStorybookTree_ and included in my story with their kind permission.

* * *

"He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." —Friedrich Nietzsche, _Beyond Good and Evil_

* * *

Lancer Captain Kells didn't turn his back on me except to swivel his head enough to make eye contact with his deck crew. Several seconds went by. Whatever signal passed between them they hadn't act on it. Yet. Underestimating their loyalty to Kells would probably cost me my life. And dammit, I'm just not ready to give that up. Too much, to do. I decided to move things along just a bit; _'Cause you know me, always ready to use a sharp stick where a gentle nudge would do._

"Captain, don't make me ask again."

He turned those dark eyes on me and I felt them like daggers into my skin. This is not a man who takes life lightly or suffers fools. I knew he would accept nothing less than the truth.

"I have one question. Why?"

Time is slipping away, and I'm not in the mood to play twenty questions.

"Answer the question yourself, sir. You've seen the pamphlets. You must know what he's planning." I tried to pitch my voice so he might sense the truth of what I said. Maybe Sarah should have confronted him. They knew each other. To him, I'm probably just the smartass malcontent who followed Knight Sarah around.

"I've seen them," he murmured as if saying the words might earn him the badge of a traitor. The dark glare of his eyes into mine was unnerving, but I knew it was mostly his command face. Then I heard him take a breath and pull his shoulders back. Every inch of him the dedicated soldier and faithful servant of the Brotherhood. Dedicated soldiers don't commit treason. Not without an excellent reason and it was up to me to give it to him.

Lancer Captain Kells glared at me under the brim of his wheel cap. He's waiting for an answer. What could I say to sway him?

An icy drop of sweat dripped down my spine.

 **Elsewhere in the Commonwealth**

Phade led her small group down another desolate street toward the flat plain where Diamond City sat comfortably behind her formidable green walls The ground tilted slightly as they began a descent toward the stadium. She intended to keep the promise she made to help these people, and she believed in their cause. Could she trust these civilians not to fold when things got tough? Would they even follow her orders? She didn't like it, she didn't have to like it, she just had to follow the plan. Any strategy that smelled as bad as this was probably a trap. Spirit and Preston's group should have infiltrated the airport by now. She wished them well. Phade glanced over her shoulder. Were the pamphlets enough? How many settlements would turn back and stay neutral?

The handpicked soldiers followed her carefully picking their way over the debris. The neighborhood around Diamond City remained quiet while they made their way toward the city. Quiet only in the way Raiders weren't shooting at them or Ghouls charging. Phade heard the screams of two centuries of dead. Their cries battered her ears. She regretted that she could do nothing for them. Regrets? What good were they?

Willing the dead to silence Phade kept her weapon up, scanning the cluttered and blood-soaked streets for any sign of an ambush. Along the way Diamond City guards nodded them through, one or two threw up a hand in greeting.

Against the backdrop of the entrance, Phade's sharp eyes narrowed in on the young woman apparently waiting and watching for someone. It was Piper. She liked Piper about as much as she liked this mission scenario. But the nosey reporter was their contact, and Diamond City was a link in the chain of their defensive line. _Dammit! This stinks._

Piper waved cheerfully.

 _Bitch, this isn't a social call._

Phade and her team of six Minutemen followed Piper into the city while she chatted away.

"Piper, I mean this in the nicest way. Shut your fucking mouth long enough to take us to the Mayor. We don't have time for a tea party."

With a smile plastered on her face, that Phade trusted not at all, Piper warbled, "Right this way."

They crowded on the elevator. "Wait. Snyder, you and Nick stay here and keep watch. Radios on."

They shared a long look with Phade. The mission came first. She shook her head slightly. Stick to the plan. Phade lifted her head to smell the stale air that sank to the lowest levels of the old stadium where no breeze ever dared to enter. The scent of unwashed bodies, machine oil, old food, and raw meat made her swallow hard.

The doors clanged shut. The elevator creaked to life. The bad feeling filled her nose and began a slow cold shiver across her skin.

The elevator reached the top and Phade marched into the Mayor's office. A shadow shifted to her right. Then movement. Before she could react four guards stuck the business ends of their weapons into her ribs.

Honest to fucking God she deserved to get paid for predicting the future. What to do? Knife in hand, she whirled in time to see a BOS patch on the guard's collar just as he hit her across the face with the butt of his hunting rifle. The skyline seemed to tilt, she kept her feet, slashing at anything that moved. She fought to keep her feet on the elevator floor. Dizzyness drove her to her knees. Phade's vision faded. Why was the elevator going down instead of up? The elevator stopped. Why was there blood in her mouth?

Above her came the sound of Nick calling her name. The sound of gunfire. Then nothing.

~o0o~

"We're doing good things in the Wasteland, Knight. You know that."

"I do. Captan. I do. But…"

He interrupted me. I resisted the urge to wipe the sweat off my hands. The bridge crew hadn't moved, so I waited.

"Knight Sarah is a good person. She's done more work around here than ten Knights. Tell me the truth, man to man."

I swallowed past the hesitation clogging my throat. Thinking hard how to might be to get through to him. But everything hinged on this moment. But he continued before I could respond. Almost as if he were having a conversation with himself.

"Is it true, what Elder Maxson planned for her? We heard they locked the two of you in a room," for the first time, his eyes cut away. "Together?"

Well, this isn't what I came here to discuss, but what the hell. "True enough, Captain. He's looking for someone to give hm an heir. Since Sarah and I aren't quite as irradiated as the general population, he picked us. Romantic, huh? " While I waited for him to come to his own conclusion my gut churned. He might take a bullet just to sound the alarm. I couldn't be sure, and I needed to be sure. Then he spoke again.

"Disgusting. I admit that it was wrong. Maxson is a good man."

"His ideas are right, sir. He wants to make the Commonwealth a better place, and I can't disagree. Captain, you must see that he's turning the east coast into a BOS police state. Anyone who is not with him is against him. You know that!" Losing my temper wouldn't help. Damn it, he wasn't budging I had to wrap it up before this fucking balloon landed in the bay. I had no doubt the boys were doing their job.

Taking a few seconds to think I came across two ideas. One, a more direct approach that could get me tossed off the side and two, a sure way for one of these Knights to shred me with a minigun. But I had to convince Kells that Maxson has changed for the worse. A ragged breath later, I went for it.

"Maxson was, a good man, but now? He's been blinded with his position in the Brotherhood. He's too wrapped up in his own world to realize that what he is doing is wrong. He'll run the Brotherhood into the ground at this rate." Taking a pause for breath, I lost my temper. "You can land this thing now, or I can shoot every one of you and land it myself."

His expression didn't change. "You are an intelligent man. I think you know what would happen if you fired a weapon in here. And I will remind you there are children aboard."

"Then give me something to work with here, Captain. Things are happening on this ship that you and I cannot control from here. Don't put everyone on this ship in peril. I need you to do the right thing, sir."

As if to punctuate my words one of his deck crew, shouted her voice rising as alarms began to ring, "We're losing altitude, Captain. Pressure is down."

"Leaking hydrogen, sir!"

"Knight Jacob, I joined the Brotherhood when I was ten years old. A Knight found me picking through a settlement ripped apart by Raiders. I owe Maxson my life."

"You owe the Brotherhood your loyalty, not Maxson. There's a goddamn difference."

Lancer Captain Kells let out a long breath. His shoulders rounded, not in defeat, but something else. Something I thought I could work with... _we_ could work with.

"Do as he says."

The bridge crew scrambled to their stations, and I started breathing again.

~o0o~

Phade woke to a throbbing headache, a coppery taste in her mouth and darkness that even her sharp eyes couldn't penetrate. Was she blindfolded? No. Blinking a few times to clear her vision, the world around her swam into view. Forcing the pain away, she got her first view of the room. Bare, nothing but the four walls and a cold floor. Not even a door…no, there it was. A trap door in the ceiling. A height even she couldn't reach.

Think. What happened? An ambush in the Mayor's office. A BOS soldier. Phade rolled carefully to her side and found the body of one of her soldiers. That must have been the shotgun she heard as she went down. Wher were the others? Dull thudding sounds and screams of pain hinted as to the location of the other four.

While Phade searched for a source of escape, she worked on the rope binding her hands behind her back.

 _Idiots._

With grace and efficiency, Phade pushed herself backward through her arms. There. Now her hands were in front of her. She pushed the stinking gag out of her mouth and went to work.

Idiots and amateurs. All of them had been bound and gagged, but no guards on the inside of the room, and no way to look into it either. A mistake on their part. Phade struggled with her bindings at first trying to untie them with her fingers. Subduing prisoners were something the BOS did right. Why hadn't they used handcuff's Who cares? Phade used her teeth to lose her the ropes around her wrists.

Struggling to her feet Phade scanned the walls, looking for anything to use as a weapon and a way out of this trap. She would get out, and it would be soon and then she'd find out who ambushed them and cut their throats. No, maybe she'd gut them and let them bleed out real slow.

There it was, amongst the cracked walls a small jagged piece of concrete stood out, hopefully enough to cut the binds. Getting to work Phade turned her back to the concrete and started sawing the ropes against the jagged stone.

Phade had no idea how long she had been lifting and lowering her arms cutting through the rope, one strand at a time. With time to assess her injuries, a broken jaw lanced hot pain through her temples. Something warm and sticky trickled down her fingers when the sound of clattering feet sounded above her head she threw herself to the ground when the trap door opened. A ladder descended. Oh, they were gonna make this just a little too easy.

Phade caught a glimpse of power armor. Someone tossed her men down the ladder. They hit the concrete floor with a wet smack. One of them turned his swollen face toward her. Then he mouthed, _stay strong and be still._ She would be strong. For them. But she wouldn't be still. Fuck that. The heavy tread of someone in power armor rattled the ladder.

Phade's bloody hands separated. She bit down hard on a cry of pain. There's is no pain. But there is revenge. Revenge helped you forget about a broken jaw and bloody wrists. The rope fell to her feet. She wouldn't let them hurt her team again. Phade pushed the pain away and focused on the sound of booted feet. She planned to open that Knight like a can of potted meat.

The Knight stepped off the ladder.

Phade stayed still while the Knight stepped into the pool of light cast by the open hatch. He was armed! What kind of a simpleton brought a weapon into a jail cell?

The helmet scanned the room when the Knight found her, he raised his hands. The hatch above him closed. Phade gulped some air. She wouldn't give the many information. Protecting the others was worth their lives. That's usually how it worked, right? Seemed information was the BOS top priority. Well, they could ask someone else.

Phade poised herself to jump the Knight.

Red stripes on a massive armored arm and a hand reached toward her.

She recoiled. _Steady._

A Paladin!

Hands clenched into fists she intended to put to use, Phade jumped the Paladin. He caught her easily in his arms. She struggled, but it flipped her over and pinned her against the filthy wall.

"Scream."

"Fuck you."

The Paladin took her jaw in his hand. It was just a touch. Then he squeezed her cheeks.

Phade spits the blood flooding her mouth at his visor.

" _Scream_ , you fool."

With one hand holding the writhing woman to the wall the other removed the helmet. Dark brown eyes bored into hers. One of his large hands curled its fingers and dug the metal points into her broken ribs.

Phade screamed.

The hiss of a Stimpak cooled her temper and the pain. She started to speak, but he hushed her with a warning glance. After he had helped her up, Phade began untying her soldiers. A few hushed whispers later, while she pointedly ignored Paladin Danse the group decided to get out of the cramped, dark room before thinking up a plan.

"Paladin Danse, I need to know. Will you alert the guards or try to stop us?"

Danse rolled his eyes and hissed in a voice so quiet they had to lean in to hear him, "I'm here to help. If you are silent and cooperative, we'll get out of here. Listen to me. There's a vertibird in the square outside the entrance. I will tie your hands and then once we get up the stairs they will tie you to each other. Just stay quiet and follow my orders. They think I'm taking you to the _Prydwen_."

"How do we know you're not her to betray us?"

"Phade. I am here for Knight Sarah and her cause. I am not here for you. But we cannot allow them to torture information from you. So unless you want to stay behind shut-the-hell-up."

"You think they could get intel out of me?" Phade asked incredulously. Honestly, the insult made her so angry she forgot about her jaw.

Once everyone was on their feet. Danse headed up the ladder and opened the hatch. Phade could hear them arguing about allowing a Paladin to steal their prisoners.

Once she got her men up, Phade checked them for injuries. Swollen faces, blood and a split lip that would need stitches, a myriad of small cuts, and one left arm hanging at an awkward angle. But they were on their feet.

"Orders, ma'am?"

Phade had found it difficult to speak with a broken jaw but managed.

"Follow Paladin Danse. Keep moving. We'll find your gear and get up to the surface."


	21. It's a Long, Long Road Chapter 21

TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road

CHAPTER: 21

AN: Many thanks to those of you still following the story.

Phade the Courier is the property _Dragonsoul1_ and included in my story with their kind permission.

Marcus Thresh, aka Spirit, is the property of _TheStorybookTree_ and included in my story with their kind permission.

* * *

 ** **Elsewhere in the Commonwealth****

A wave of sound rolled across the Commonwealth like the clap of thunder, frightening a dozen species of animals. Frightened horses stamped and whinnied, pulling at their stakes. Yao Guais roared and death claws snarled, while the feral dogs and wolves howled and the last glass panes from the old world shattered.

The concussion knocked MacCready from his spot by the campfire. The string of curses that followed made him forget all about the cigarette he was about to bum off a Minuteman. With nothing decent to drink in three days, sitting around waiting for the action to begin drained him. Cigarettes seemed the lesser of two evils. Both forgotten MacCready rolled to his feet in time to dodge a herd of charging radstags.

The second boom echoed across the Commonwealth and MacCready's ear's popped. Two dozen men and women jumped to their feet with the dust churned up by the radstags swirled around them obscuring their view. Over the sound of shouted orders, RJ gathered his pack and brought his frightened horse under control long enough to climb into the saddle. Born and raised in DC and the Commonwealth MacCready knew how to survive in this hostile land, just as he knew the noise of a Mutant's footsteps and how to take one down efficiently and the scratching snarl of a mutant or the warning shout of a Raider.

This was different. MacCready tugged his hat down and leaned over the horse's neck.

 ** **South of the Airport, Ten Miles SE of MacCready's Position****

Spirit narrowed his eyes against the rising sun and washed the last of his breakfast down with a swallow Nuka-Cherry cola. The warm glow over the Commonwealth lured him into relaxing as he enjoyed the last of his meal. Yesterday, on their final ten miles to the airport, he overheard two Minutemen talking about a place called Nuka-World. The settlers spoke about all the new flavors of Nuka Cola available. Surprised he hadn't already heard of this place he wondered if the stories were true. No one could make something like that up. The idea of visiting Nuka-World pushed all the right buttons. Along with tales of new flavors, came talk of Raider gangs with names he'd never heard of and something about running a Gauntlet appealed to him. No one could provide details because no one who'd ever entered came out alive. Now that was a challenge he wanted to meet.

Not that he share it with anyone, but Nuka-Cola was his one weakness. The exotic-sounding flavors like dark, wild, orange, grape, and quantum enticed him into thinking about a visit. Probably lay off the Quantum, though. Pissing glow-in-the-dark-blue was a bad way to stay under cover in the wasteland. And maybe, when all this was over… Well, maybe he'd come right out and ask Phade to come along. Spirit settled back on the patio chair and crossed one long leg over the other. Soon as this was over, he'n Phade would head west. Maybe ask Jake and Sarah if they wanted to come along. What did they use to call it? A vacation?

Spirit focused his eyes away from the sunrise to the _Prydwen_ floating gracefully against the brightening sky. Why didn't the BOS put that airship undercover when one of those lightning storms hit? It was beyond his ability to figure out how they could be so careless with such a valuable resource. Was it just more BOS arrogance? One lightning strike, just one small crackle of static and that hydrogen balloon would go up in a ball of flame. When the Minutemen owned that airship, he mused, he'd help them recondition one of those airport buildings as a shelter.

Spirit tipped the bottle up to get the last few drops of cola when movement caught his attention. The sound reached his ears quickly across the stretch of water separating them from the _Prydwen_ and the airport. The sound came again, and this time, he watched the airship curtsy deeply. The sound of her moorings snapping reverberated across the water like a gunshot. She twisted twisted, then pulled hard to port with a scream of tearing metal.

Spirit leaped to his feet fast enough to send the patio chair shooting out behind him and the bottle shattered at his feet.

"Mount up!" He shouted running for his own horse.

They hadn't made it a hundred yards before Spirit noticed a small group of people moving their way. One of them was in BOS power armor.

Spirit kicked his horse forward and didn't stop until he slid the horse to a stop in front of Paladin Danse. Leaping from his horse, Spirit carefully took Phade's arm—you could never be too careful about Phade. When she didn't respond he tilted her head up. Glazed eyes met his. _What happened?_

"Phade! Talk to me. Phade, can you hear me? We must keep moving."

Paladin Danse stepped between them. "She's fine or will be fine when she extracts a few pints of revenge. We patched up their injuries and headed your way."

Spirit studied the Paladin's face before replying. The man frankly looked as if he'd been chewed up by a death claw, and abandoned by the side of the road. Every man had a limit and Danse looked as if he'd just found his.

 ** **The Prydwen – Knight Sarah****

The guards renewed their grip on their miniguns and waited for orders. Dressed in a suit of power armor Proctor Teagan walked calmly through the main deck, stopping to place a comforting hand the shoulder of a frightened young squire. Advising the other Proctors and Scribes to stand fast and wait for new orders. Until then, they were to hold their position. It's just the wind. No cause for worry, he told them. He smiled at the Galley Scribe as he passed and threw up a hand.

"I'll find out what's going on," Teagan said with a grin meant to reassure. Good thing they couldn't see what was going on inside his belly. Fifty steps to the exit hatch another ten to the point that will change his life forever. He made a mental note of it as he crossed the threshold into the foredeck where Maxson and Knight Sarah stood talking. The tension between them vibrated the air. Maxson kept talking and didn't notice Teagan's approach.

"Knight, I will only say this once. You are making a mistake. An error that will cost you your life and the lives of all those you hold dear. I granted you leeway, my dear, Time to grieve for what you lost, time to adjust and the honor of providing me with an heir. I guided you and gave you all the resources you required. But you've overstepped those bounds, and as much as it pains me to say so, I cannot forgive your betrayal."

"It's over Maxson. Your words are meaningless. Just like your arrogance. You're nothing more than one of those television preachers. Collecting money and spouting useless dogma." Knight Sarah's heated words widened Maxson's eyes.

Teagan was pretty sure no one had ever spoken to him in that tone of voice. Then no one had imaged the courage of this stranger, named Sarah, from another world. Proctor Teagan noticed something he hadn't paid attention to before. Perhaps he should have. Maybe they all should have seen the glassy-eyed mania and the calm demeanor that hid a killer. No, not with his own hands, but through his Knights and the men and women who followed their orders. Something cold and greasy moved through Teagan. With a pain that twisted his guts he knew, if he didn't know before he knew it now.

He wasn't a dreamer or even an idealist. He did his job, enjoyed having a roof over his head, and thus remained loyal to the Brotherhood. Hot bile splashed into his mouth. A hand on his shoulder squeezed hard enough to distract him from the horror of Elder Maxson's mania and Sarah's danger.

"Steady on, old man."

"Cade," Teagan breathed.

The ship yawed, spilling equipment and material to the deck. Glass shattered, and a few of the crew began to panic.

Cade steadied himself, "Looks like we're up to bat, Teagan." Moving unsteadily in a suit of power armor he was no longer accustomed to wearing, Knight Captain Cade followed Teagan into the forecastle until they stood shoulder to shoulder with Knight Sarah.

 ** **The Prydwen's Bridge – Knight Jacob POV****

I took my eyes off Kells long enough to make sure the bridge crew was still following his orders. The second I looked away, Lancer Captain Kells threw himself against the rudder wheel. The ship groaned, shuddered, and pitched forward. The sound of the moorings snapping startled the bridge crew. They stepped away from their posts and began chattering their voices rising.

"Goddammit, Kells! Do you really mean to kill everyone on this ship? The Commonwealth has no use for this mindless obedience. Listen to me." Here I go again deciding what's best for people I don't even know.

"I'll scuttle the _Prydwen_ before I let you get your dirty traitor's hands on her."

While I tried to think of a way to reach him the _Prydwen_ shuddered, her skin rippled. It's difficult to form a logical argument when the ground under your feet is moving like the waves of the ocean. Not that I actually know what that's like, but it seemed like a good analogy. A breath later, gravity made herself known by taking the deck down a few feet. We all fell to our knees. One of the bridge crew fell hard knocking himself unconscious. One of them screamed.

Kells pulled himself up, righted his cap, and pulled an ancient and functional looking SIG Sauer pistol from his jacket pocket. Are you impressed I recognized this centuries-old weapon? Later for that, I should talk Kells out of committing suicide, cause we don't have much time.

"Kells," I shouted over the din of orders and fear doubting he would listen. "Stop what you're doing and hand me that weapon." The eyes he turned on me were no longer sane. Without a moment of indecision, he chambered a round.

 _ _Fuck.__

"Knight Jacob, did you know my family name was listed in the Saxon Chronicles and held a family seat in Scotland before the arrival of Duke William at Hastings in 1066A.D? My great great grandfather fought with honor and distinction in World War II. His son, Major-General Clarence Howard Kells earned the Medal of Honor for his service during the Vietnam conflict."

"That's just fucking fascinating, Knight Captain." About the time my trigger finger started itching, The _Prydwen_ dropped again, kicking our feet out from under us. My left shoulder bounced off a console, and I heard the sickening sound of a bone breaking, or maybe it was tendons. I hate that sound. I rolled for the weapon and managed to grab it. Damn, maybe my luck is changing.

"Sir, this is not about failure." My vision blurred from the pain. I pushed thoughts about Sarah and the boys away and pressed on. "This is not about honor. This is about saving the kids on this ship and our innocent brothers and sisters."

We were going down. I didn't want to kill him. Kells was a good man. I gave him to the count of ten then I'd have to kill or the only thing that would come to this day was a whole lot of innocent and meaningless deaths.

~o0o~

"Elder Maxson, you are hereby relieved of command."

Maxson's gaze turned on Proctor Teagan. "That's mutiny, Proctor and punishable by death. Firing squad or hanging…perhaps we'll hang you from Liberty Prime… Yes, yes… leave you there as they did in ancient times when they left the rotting heads of the condemned on pikes at the city gates."

"There's a vertibird waiting for you on the flight deck. You'll be taken to The Castle and imprisoned under the watch of the Minutemen."

Teagan lifted his chin, indicating for Sarah to move away from Elder Maxson. She was already moving when Maxson dove for the combat shotgun in her hands. Before Teagan or Cade could act, she'd spun the weapon around and slammed the butt against his chin. Maxson's eyes rolled back and he began to go down. Cade and Teagan caught him before landed on the deck. With Maxson's limp form between them, they ran for the flight deck. Sarah followed watching carefully for Matt and the boys.

* * *

"Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be

What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature;

 **It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness**

To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great,

Art not without ambition, but without

The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,

That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,

And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou'lt have, great Glamis,

That which cries, "Thus thou must do," if thou have it,

And that which rather thou dost fear to do,

Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear

And chastise with the valor of my tongue

All that impedes thee from the golden round,

Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem

To have thee crowned withal."

Lady Macbeth, __Macbeth__ _, Act 1, Scene 5_

 _##_

Kells, Clarence Howard, Major General

www . houseofnames kells-family-crest


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